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ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 
A Romance of the Days of Nero 


BY 

LAUREL M. HOYT 



BOSTON 

SHERMAN, FRENCH & COMPANY 
1915 


Entered at Stationers’ Hall 
All rights reserved 


Copyright, 1915 


Sherman, French & Company 



DEC -719)5 


©CI.A414925 


TO 

MARY L. HOYT 


MY MOTHER 




t 


FOREWORD 


The story of Onesimus, inseparable as a portion of 
it is from sacred history, stands out as one of the 
grandest and noblest ever recorded. At a period in 
the world’s history when intrigue and immorality were 
rampant, and honor and loyalty, justice and truth 
were so lightly esteemed, the story of one who was 
willing to sacrifice everything that life held dear that 
he might remain true to his convictions, will certainly 
stand as a perpetual beacon light for generations yet 
to come. 

Onesimus, willing to return to his former master, 
which meant a life of slavery, and perhaps death, 
should Philemon not concede to Paul’s request, proves 
that he possessed the true Christian spirit, else he 
would not willingly have rejected the wealth and so- 
cial honors which would have followed his marriage 
with Berenice. 

As the reader follows Onesimus through the differ- 
ent scenes of his life, and considers how strong an in- 
fluence his surroundings must have had upon him, he 
will more thoroughly appreciate the depth of char- 
acter that he displayed. 

Laurel M. Hoyt. 

Hillsboro, Oregon. 





INTRODUCTION 


Owing to the great antiquity of Joppa, the 
home of our hero, and its ancient prominence, and 
to the fact that Onesimus was the cause of one of 
the books of the Bible (Philemon) being written, 
it is considered best by the author to give the 
following descriptions and facts regarding Joppa, 
the home of Onesimus at the time our narrative 
opens. 

Joppa is the name given in the Greek of the 
New Testament to a city called in Hebrew Jaho, 
incorrectly written Jaffa, which means “ Beauty.” 

It is situated on the sea coast of Syria, about 
thirty five miles northwest of Jerusalem, and still 
deserves its name. The mere name suggests a 
romance. As Thomson aptly writes : 

“ Oldest of cities: Sidon on the North, 

And Kirjathaba of the rocky South, 

And Egypt’s Zoan, cannot equal thee, 

Andromeda and Perseus, if the lay of classic fable 
speaks the truth, were here; 

And Cestius, with his Roman plunderers; 

And Saladin, and Baldwin, and the host of fierce cru- 
saders from the British North, 

Once shook their swords above thee and thy blood 
Flowed down like water to thine ancient sea.” 


INTRODUCTION 


Joppa is in reality one of the oldest cities in 
the world. It was given to Dan in the distribu- 
tion of the land by Joshua, and has been known 
to history ever since. It was the port of Jerusa- 
lem in the time of David and Solomon, and the 
place to which the Cedars of Lebanon were floated 
from Tyre by Hiram for the building of the 
Temple. It was from Joppa that Jonah sailed 
for Tarshish, thinking to escape from the presence 
of the Lord. It was at this place that the Apostle 
Peter saw the vision which corrected his Jewish 
prejudices concerning the Gentiles and the spirit 
of Christianity. 

Soon after the opening of our story Joppa was 
totally destroyed by Cestius. In 68 a.d. it was 
again taken, burned and destroyed by Vespasian. 
In 1187 Saladin took the city, which was recov- 
ered by King Richard in 1196. In 1799 the 
French under Bonaparte stormed the city, then 
protected by walls, and here was perpetrated his 
shameful massacre of Turkish prisoners. In 1832 
Mohammed Ali made himself master of it ; but the 
Turks, with the assistance of the British and Aus- 
trians, took it from him again in 1840. 

The modern city, still the seaport of Jerusalem, 
with which it is connected by a carriage road in 
very bad repair, is built on a round hillock rising 
one hundred feet above the shore; to the north 
and south are sand hills ; to the east are fine gar- 
dens, and orchards of oranges, pomegranates, figs 
and olives. 


INTRODUCTION 


The walls of the city still remain. It owes its 
existence to the low ledge of rocks which extends 
into the sea from the extremity of the little cape 
on which part of the city stands, and forms a 
small harbor. Insignificant and insecure as it is, 
there being no other on all this coast, it was suffi- 
cient to cause a city to spring up around it, even 
in the earliest times, and to maintain its life 
through all its vicissitudes and changes of govern- 
ment. The Jews during the greater part of their 
existence possessed no other harbor of note. 

All, or at least a greater portion, of their for- 
eign trade was from this port, until Herod built 
the artificial port of Cassarea in 22 b.c., which is 
thirty miles north of Joppa. It was on the 
jagged rocks on which Joppa is built that it is 
claimed Andromeda was chained and exposed to 
the sea monster. 

Cassiopeia the queen, wife of Cepheus, king of 
the ^Ethiopians, had declared that her beauty was the 
equal of any of the sea nymphs, which roused the 
anger of Neptune, the sea god, who sent a deluge on 
the land, and a great sea monster which destroyed 
man and beast. The oracle Ammon declared that 
there would be no deliverance found until King Ce- 
pheus should chain his daughter Andromeda to the 
rocks to be destroyed by the sea monster. 

In compliance with this edict, Cepheus chained 
his daughter to a rock on the shore. Perseus, look- 
ing down from his aerial height as he was returning 
from having slain the Gorgons, saw the maiden 
fastened to the rock, exposed to the mercy of the mon- 


INTRODUCTION 


ster. ‘ Fear not, Andromeda/ he said, ‘ I will do bat- 
tle with the monster, and when thy foes are van- 
quished, I will sue for the boon of thy love/ A soft 
blush as of great gladness eame over the pale cheeks 
of the maiden, as she answered: ‘O Perseus, why 
should I hide from thee my joy? Thou hast come to 
me like the light of the morning when it breaks on a 
woeful night/ 

“ Perseus slew the monster and set her free. They 
were soon married, against the opposition of Phineus, 
to whom she had before been engaged. Phineus and 
his hand of followers attacked Perseus at the wedding 
feast and were all turned to stone by gazing on the 
Gorgon head which Perseus carried. Before leaving 
^Ethiopia she bore a son, Perses, from whom the Per- 
sian kings trace their descent, as did also the kings of 
Pontus and Cappadocia, who had a portrait of Per- 
seus on their coins. Returning with her husband first 
to Seriphus, and finally Argos, Andromeda bore him 
Alcaeus, Sthenelus, and Electryoa, and thus founded 
the dynasty of the Persides. 

“ After her death Andromeda was translated by 
Minerva to a constellation in the northern sky, near 
Perseus and Cassiepea.” ^ 

Joppa has a history not composed of ancient 
myths, for its record has from ancient times been 
written in blood. Very few, if any, cities have so 
many times been demolished, plundered, burned 
and rebuilt. Space does not permit of a more de- 
tailed account of these disasters. They may bd 
learned from the Bible, the books of the Macca- 
bees, Pliny, Josephus, and ancient histories. 

1 See the Greek legend of Andromeda, 


BOOK ONE 


✓ 




CHAPTER I 


The day was nearly done and the sun was slowly 
sinking for its final dip into the sea now resembling 
a mass of molten gold. The sky was resplendent 
and glowing with all the color and beauty of a 
sunset of the eastern lands. 

A solitary rider on a dromedary was seen com- 
ing at a swinging trot along the ancient thorough- 
fare, scattering with its feet the sands that for 
centuries had been carried back and forth between 
the sea and the Syrian desert. As they ap- 
proached the city, now bathed in the glory of the 
setting sun, it stood out most picturesquely beau- 
tiful. 

Despite the fact that he had passports and let- 
ters of introduction, he grew restless and uneasy 
as he drew near his destination, and the people he 
was to betray ; through his treachery thousands of 
men, women and innocent little children would be 
massacred. He peered into the dim hazy distance, 
with expectation, curiosity and dread; dread from 
fear his perfidious acts might bring harm to mem- 
bers of his uncle’s family. Often he looked be- 
hind him with the unanalyzed feeling of the thief 
fearing detection of a premeditated crime, and a 
curse fell from his lips as his mind turned again 
1 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


to the part he was compelled to play in the fall 
of Joppa, if he would maintain favor with those 
in authority at Rome. Speaking to himself, Lu- 
cius said, “ Is this Joppa, and the end of my jour- 
ney ” He urged his camel, which was picking its 
way with low plaintive moans, to a faster pace, 
that he might reach the city ere the gates were 
closed for the night, as otherwise he would be 
compelled to pass the night without food or shelter. 

Arriving at the gate just in time to pass in, 
Lucius inquired of the gate-keeper the way to 
Jezreel’s house. Having gained the desired infor- 
mation he hurried on, and soon arrived at his 
uncle’s home, one of the most beautiful palaces in 
all Joppa. Dismounting, he gave the camel and 
his luggage to the care of the servants. His 
uncle, having received word of Lucius’ arrival, 
hurried out to meet him. 

“ The blessings of the Lord Christ be upon 
thee,” said Jezreel as he embraced his nephew, 
whom he had not seen for many years. 

Lucius entered the house, preceded by Jezreel, 
where he met his aunt and their adopted daughter 
Sapphira. 

In response to their inquiries he related the in- 
cidents of his journey from Rome. As he spoke 
all listened with the deepest interest. He also told 
them of the persecutions of the Christians, which 
affected them greatly, since they had secretly em- 
braced the religion of Jesus Christ, and had re- 
moved from Ephesus to Joppa hoping that here 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


they could worship their new found Saviour in 
peace, and be free from the interference of the 
government. 

He also told them of the uprising against the 
Jews which was being encouraged by the Emperor, 
and stated that it was not at all improbable that 
Cestius or some other general would march in that 
direction, in which case Joppa would most likely 
be destroyed, as it could not long hold against such 
a force as would be sent against it, and other 
cities in that locality. 

While he was speaking he noticed that Sapphira 
had been intently watching him. Knowing her 
frivolous character he wondered at her intense in- 
terest in him. 

Sapphira’s mind had worked quickly and a plan 
presented itself to her by which she could arouse 
the jealousy of Onesimus, whom she had deter- 
mined to win. 

“ I will make this handsome prince the means 
of winning Onesimus’ love, for ’tis not pleasant 
to marry one who loves you not. I will let Onesi- 
mus believe that I care for Lucius, and when he 
believes he is likely to lose me, he will quickly de- 
clare his love, for I know he must love me,” she 
thought. 

Sapphira, being a young, impulsive and ad- 
venturesome girl, and possessing, as she did, all 
the grace and beauty in both face and form of the 
Grecian race, had a magnetic influence over her 
male friends which placed her in a position to 


4 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


choose from the noblest and wealthiest in the land. 

Lucius felt a new, strange and indescribable sen- 
sation under the gaze of those marvelously beauti- 
ful blue eyes. He felt that something beside mere 
interest in his story prompted that regard, and 
he became very restless and uneasy, with a great 
desire to know and understand this beautiful girl. 
After they had partaken of the evening meal Jez- 
reel said, “ Thou must be weary after thy long 
journey, Lucius. Dost thou not wish to retire.? ” 

Lucius, signifying that he did, bade the rest 
good-night and followed his uncle to his apart- 
ments, where he was soon dreaming of those beau- 
tiful searching blue eyes; but the spirit of his 
dream soon changed, and he was in the terrible 
grip of a nightmare of massacre and crime, where 
horrible forms pursued him relentlessly ; a terrible 
paralyzed feeling of inability to run or act blocked 
every effort he made to escape, till finally he 
awoke, trembling with fear and bathed with perspi- 
ration. 

The next morning, arising early, he went for a 
walk by the sea, feeling the need of fresh air and 
exercise to throw off the effects of his dream. 
This place, then as now, was one of rare beauty. 
He wandered up and down the beach for a time, 
filling his lungs with the fresh salt air, and gazing 
with admiration upon the scene before him. He 
looked back towards the beautiful city of mag- 
nificent splendor, bathed in the light of the newly 
risen sun. The sky was filled with fleecy white 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


5 


clouds, tinged with pink. Behind him was the 
calm sea, while the long horizon, shot with rosy 
clouds that were lined with gold, turned to a most 
delicate green as they faded into the lovely blue 
of the sky above. 

Lucius ere long, feeling the return of his spirits 
and the natural buoyancy of youth and health, 
made his way back to his uncle’s place. 

After the morning meal was over, Lucius and 
Sapphira passed out for a walk in the gardens 
surrounding the house. After a tour of the gar- 
dens they sat down on a bench in the shade of the 
friendly trees, and were soon engaged in an earnest 
conversation. 

“ I fear, Lucius, in the light of thy report of 
the Romans’ intention to make war upon the Jews 
of this part of the country, that thy visit is ill 
timed. Dost thou not see what is thy lot in the 
event that Joppa is taken by the Romans ” 

“ I fear nothing,” Lucius replied. “ I am a 
Roman, and Cestius would not dare to harm a 
hair of my head. But even though danger should 
come, canst thou not read in my eyes a reason for 
my lingering .P” 

These words sent a delicate flush to her face, 
and her heart beat rapidly. 

“ Lucius, thou must not think of these things, 
for I am promised to Onesimus by the arrange- 
ment of my family and expect soon to be married. 
And in view of this I had determined to win his 
heart.” 


6 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


Lucius would not listen, however, and said : “ I 

love thee, Sapphira ; thou art life and all to me. 
What care I if thou art engaged to Nero himself, 
if thou dost not love him ! ” 

He stooped over her, taking her hand in his. 
Hisi voice dropped to a gentle whisper, as he said : 
“ And thou wilt not say me nay, Sapphira.” 

A tumult of feelings surged within her. In con- 
fusion her heart turned toward Onesimus, then to 
Lucius. Thoughts of the poverty of Onesimus 
and the riches of Lucius, with his high social posi- 
tion, rushed through her mind. The prospect of 
the pleasures and luxuries of life with Lucius, 
coupled with the conviction that she could learn 
to love him, was more to her liking than the pros- 
pects of her life as it would be with Onesimus. 

Lucius, hearing a rustle in the bushes, turned 
and saw Onesimus standing near. 

Onesimus had been directed there by Jezreel. 
He was surprised to find this handsome stranger 
with Sapphira. Upon seeing him she arose and 
presented him to Lucius, who noticed that Onesi- 
mus appeared ill at ease, and judging rightly the 
cause and feeling that he had already gained Sap- 
phira’s love, felt safe to retire and leave the two 
together. 

Onesimus was the first to break the silence, which 
was becoming embarrassing, by asking who the 
stranger was and what was his mission. 

Sapphira replied that the stranger was a cousin 
whose parents had died, leaving him alone in the 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


7 


world and in possession of large estates and prop- 
erties of various kinds. Being reared a Roman 
he naturally chose Rome as his home; that after 
the death of his parents he remained at home 
only a small part of the time, and was now here 
on a visit to his uncle. 

Onesimus listened till she ceased speaking, then 
said: 

“ Thy cousin Lucius had better have remained 
at Rome, for I greatly fear that Cestius, who is 
marching towards Joppa, intends to attack this 
city. In that event it is most sure to be destroyed, 
and Lucius may have trouble ere he gets back to 
Rome again.” 

“ Thou art very thoughtful of him,” she re- 
plied. “ But he assures me that in case of trouble 
with the Romans he will stand by his relatives, let 
come what will.” 

Onesimus did not care to continue the conversa- 
tion, for he judged, and rightly, that from the 
confused appearance of the two, together with 
what he heard Lucius say, that he was making love 
to her, his promised wife. This angered him, yet 
he tried not to display his feelings. 

“ Sapphira, should I not see thee as often as of 
old, please do not think that it is because I do not 
desire to be with thee, for I shall be very busy 
from this time until we are attacked, or until I 
have assurance that we need no longer fear an at- 
tack. The soldiers under my command need my 
attention ; besides, it is desired that I assist in 


8 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


strengthening the weak places in the walls. If 1 
am not with thee as in days gone by, it is because 
duty requires my presence elsewhere.” 

Bidding her good-by, he hurried back to his 
work, while Sapphira returned to her father’s 
house. 

“ What news dost thou bring? ” asked Jezreel, 
as Sapphira came into the room. “ Onesimus 
tells me there are rumors of Cestius marching this 
way, in which case it will not be long before the 
city will be attacked. When your mother and I 
accepted Christ as our Saviour, while thou wert 
yet a little child, we left Ephesus thinking that 
perhaps by coming here we could worship our Lord 
and Master as we wished without interference by 
the authorities. Now it appears to me that there 
is grave trouble ahead for us.” 

“ Would it not be best to leave here, father, 
while there is yet an opportunity? ” asked Sap- 
phira. 

“ My child, I fear it is too late, but I have been 
thinking of it, and will go now and see if I can 
procure asses or camels for the journey.” 

As Jezreel left the room Lucius entered. He 
advanced to Sapphira, and taking both her hands 
in his, led her to a divan while he remained stand- 
ing before her. 

“ Dost thou know, Sapphira, that since I learned 
that thou art engaged to that young soldier my 
mind has been sorely troubled, for I am convinced 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 9 

that thou dost love me. Is it not so ? ” he said, 
bending over her. 

Sapphira was like a great many other women of 
that time; she lived for the pleasure of living, was 
vain and frivolous, not thinking of and caring 
little for the future. She was, however, an hon- 
est, virtuous and good-hearted girl, and would not 
willingly hurt or injure any one. 

She loved Onesimus as much, perhaps, as her 
nature could love any one ; yet when this handsome 
and supposedly rich cousin of hers made love to 
her it pleased her greatly. She pictured herself 
in his magnificent palace, surrounded with serv- 
ants, and with all the comforts, luxuries and 
pleasures that great wealth can give. After a few 
moments of silence she motioned him to a seat be- 
side her. 

“ Lucius, before thou earnest I thought I loved 
Onesimus, but since then all is changed. Thou 
hast made me doubt my heart’s love and wonder if, 
after all, it is not a mere infatuation.” 

Sapphira, my heart is truly thine. All my 
hopes, my ambitions, my life, I count as naught to 
winning thee. Let me gaze once more into thine 
eyes, those eyes that could lift my soul to heaven 
above. Tell me, wilt thou be my own ? ” 

Sapphira was silent for a time, uncertain, like 
one just wakened from sleep, then she said: 

“ Since first thou clasped my hand and gazed 
into my eyes, my one desire has been to hear thee 


10 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


speak as thou hast done, to feel thine arms around 
me. Yes, I love thee.” 

Lucius clasped her to him, kissing her again and 
again, her eyes, her lips and her cheeks. He 
seemed fairly beside himelf with his desire for this 
lovely girl. 

The ardent lovemaking of Lucius was so differ- 
ent from the quiet dreamy way in which Onesimus 
made love to her, and so much more to her liking, 
that she felt more than ever convinced that she 
never had loved Onesimus. 


CHAPTER II 


The evening meal being over, the family gath- 
ered in earnest conversation regarding Jezreel’s 
inability to procure animals necessary for their 
journey. Their conversation was interrupted by 
the entrance of Onesimus, who came to inform 
them that his servant Tero, who had recently ar- 
rived, had learned that the army sent to Cestius 
was encamped about a distance of two days’ jour- 
ney from the city, and would in all probabihty at- 
tack the place a day or two hence. He had al- 
ready sent out advance guards which would make 
it almost impossible for any one to leave the city, 
unless the small number of soldiers available could 
hold them back. 

“ I have been looking all day for asses or camels 
to use in our flight from the city, but there were 
none to be had, for in anticipation of this trouble 
people have for some time had them all engaged,” 
said Jezreel. 

After a lengthy discussion they decided that the 
chances of escape were so few that they would be 
forced to give up the attempt. 

“Jezreel, wilt thou come with me.?^” said One- 
simus. “ There is something I would say to thee.” 

They passed out into the garden, the grand 
11 


12 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


old moon was rising over the distant hills. Going 
to the farther side of the garden they took a seat 
overlooking the sea. Both men were quiet for a 
time, one waiting for he knew not what, the other 
lost in thought. Arousing himself, Onesimus 
said : 

“ Thou knowest, J ezreel, that I have labored 
with our small band of soldiers to get the men in a 
condition to withstand an attack with the odds all 
against us, but those in authority only laugh at 
me for my pains, not believing in the rumors that 
an army is marching against us. Without their 
assistance I can do nothing. As thou knowest, I 
am in command of only a mere handful of men 
as compared with an army. My faithful servant 
Tero, whom I have had watching Lucius since he 
came, tells me that Lucius has been making love 
to Sapphira, and has won her from me. Should 
the city be attacked I shall go forth to do battle 
with the enemy, even though we are only a few 
and they are many. Should I go down in the 
conflict, or be taken prisoner and sold into slavery 
will not matter to her. Thou wilt say to Sap- 
phira that I forgive her for her unfaithfulness and 
wish her more joy and happiness than his wealth 
and love can bring her. Even though I am not 
a Christian, I hope to meet you all in that heaven 
I have heard you talk about so many times.” 

“ Thy wish is mine,” replied J ezreel, “ and while 
I fear for the future, yet I have put my faith in 
Christ and know that in the hour of sorrow and 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


13 


trouble he will not desert us. It is with sadness 
that I think of thy neglect to accept Christ as thy 
Savior, as He only can comfort and strengthen 
thee in trouble, when the whole world seems against 
thee. What thinkest thou, can thy heathen gods 
save thee from the calamities which thou fearest 
are about to come upon us? Nay, nay, in the 
hour! of need they are of no help or comfort; on 
the other hand Christ was offered to bear the sins 
of the world and whosoever calleth upon His name 
believing shall be delivered. 

“ As to Sapphira and her actions with Lucius ; 
she is but a child and I cannot believe that she is 
guilty of unfaithfulness to thee. She is merely 
pleased with the flattery of Lucius.” 

The following morning Onesimus was up with 
the sun, as he firmly believed that an attack would 
be made by the army sent by Cestius to destroy 
all the cities of the southwestern part of Syria. 

His superior, and brother officers, however, did 
not share his belief, thinking his servant Tero had 
reported falsely. Yet the outcome would have 
been the same had he had their support, as Cestius 
had sent too strong an army for the number at 
Joppa to hope to hold out against them. Had 
they only heeded Tero’s warning some might have 
escaped by flight. 

After breakfast Onesimus hastened to the quar- 
ters of his company of faithful men. Consulting 
with them, it was decided that Onesimus should 
take a small detachment to go out and reconnoiter. 


14 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


Buckling on their armor, his little band followed 
Onesimus out of the city on a mission which, while 
it proved disastrous, saved them from the worse 
fate their companions met in the city. 

He instructed his lieutenant Andrew to go out 
by the east gate into the hills about seven fur- 
longs, make a detour, and meet him on the road 
four furlongs from the northeast corner of the 
wall. Onesimus went out by the north gate and 
sent a part of his force to the seaside, directing 
them to go north from there a distance of six fur- 
longs, thence east, all three parties to meet at the 
place where Andrew and his men would be in wait- 
ing. Onesimus continued up the east side of the 
range of low-lying sand hills which at this point 
extended both north and south. 

As it was early in the morning the Romans had 
apparently not yet left their camp, and Onesimus 
saw nothing to indicate an immediate attack. 

The scouting parties gathered at the place ap- 
pointed, and after discussing the situation decided 
to return by the east gate. 

Suddenly Onesimus noticed a large force of Ro- 
man horsemen coming over the hills from the east ; 
almost simultaneously Andrew saw a large body 
of footmen advancing around the north end of 
the low sand hills to the north. 

They perceived that Cestius had sent one force 
by way of the sea side and another by the land. 
The one following the sea separated when it came 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


15 


to the sand hills, one part going down the west 
side, and one to the east. 

Onesimus and his little band of brave men now 
saw that escape was impossible, as the enemy could 
easily reach the east gate before they could cover 
one-half the distance, and thus they were entirely 
cut off from the chance of returning to the city. 

Knowing that the Romans’ mission was not to 
take prisoners or extend quarter, their only course 
was to die fighting rather than to surrender and 
then to be put to the sword. 

The Romans were killing all, sparing neither 
age nor sex, and destroying everything in their 
path. All cities captured by them were plundered 
and burned. 

“ Andrew,” said Onesimus, “ ’tis plain that we 
cannot reach the city, and without horses we can- 
not escape. Shall we not make them pay dearly 
for their victory over us? We are few and they 
many, but none can say I ever thought to avoid 
the lot which may fall to any soldier — ‘ death on 
the field of battle.’ Look to your arms and while 
we are only a few against the many, yet we will 
bravely meet their charge, and a number of them 
shall pay for our death.” 

Sohemus, whom Cestius had sent in command of 
this expedition, had noticed the band of soldiers 
and was advancing towards them, riding at the 
head of his horsemen. 

Onesimus had chosen for his followers the flower 


16 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


of his entire company. They had drilled so per- 
sistently that they were very proficient with their 
arms and could throw darts at a greater distance 
than the average soldier. 

While the Romans were yet afar off they began 
to throw their darts, and had the satisfaction of 
seeing a goodly number of horses and men go 
down. 

The Romans advanced at a furious gallop but 
when they arrived close enough to reach Onesimus 
and his men with their arrows and darts, they saw 
that to capture the band they must proceed on 
foot, owing to the ledge of rocks behind which One- 
simus and his men had taken refuge. 

Sohemus dismounted and advanced towards them 
alone, indicating that he wished to speak with 
them. Onesimus and his band then ceased to dis- 
charge their arrows and darts and allowed the gen- 
eral to approach. 

“ Hail, thou Jew,” he cried as soon as he was 
within speaking distance. 

“ What dost thou want ? ” Onesimus replied, 
having advanced to meet the Roman general. 

By that time the Roman general had advanced 
close enough to observe the features of Onesimus. 

He gave a start of surprise. 

“ By the gods, how earnest thou here? ” he 
asked. “ I thought thou wert of that Jewish 
rabble from the city, but if I mistake not thou art 
the winner of the Olympic games, which netted me 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 17 

a goodly number of talents at a time when I was 
hard pressed. But why in this place ? ” 

“ Thou hast rightly remembered, but as to why 
I am here, that is of no concern to thee.” 

But come, I want the surrender of thyself 
and thy band,” continued Sohemus. 

“ Then thou must return, for that we will never 
consent to,” Onesimus answered. 

“ What ! dost thou refuse ; dost thou not know 
that it will be impossible to hold out against us, 
and refusal will result in your bodies being filled 
with arrows and fed to the vultures, or, if unfor- 
tunate enough to be captured, thy fate will be the 
galleys.^ For the favor thou didst render me at 
the games, if thou and thy band will surrender I 
will get thee passports to Rome.” 

“ Thou hast my answer,” Onesimus replied. 

“ I had a mind to save thee, young man, but if 
my offer is rejected it will be at thy peril.” 

“ I have answered thee,” replied Onesimus. 

Sohemus, seeing that he could not be moved, re- 
joined his men, gave the order to advance and 
show no quarter to any excepting the leader, who 
was to be spared. 

As soon as Onesimus returned to his men, they 
prepared to repel the attack. It was only a short 
time until the Romans were storming their natural 
fortress. 

While a great many Romans went down under 
their well directed arrows, the little band was so 


18 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


greatly outnumbered that soon only Onesimus was 
left and he was overpowered and taken to the rear 
of the army under guard, where he remained until 
after the fall of the city. 


CHAPTER III 


As soon as Jezreel had partaken of the morning 
meal he went to the garrison expecting to find 
Onesimus. He was greatly disappointed, how- 
ever, to learn from his servant, Tero, that his 
master had left early in the morning with a small 
band of soldiers and that he did not know when 
they were expected to return. 

“ Good master,” said Tero, “ I would talk with 
thee alone if thou canst spare the time.” 

“ Well, what thou hast to say, say quickly, for 
I must be gone.” 

“ Follow me, for what I would say is for thine 
ear only, and the very walls have ears.” 

Tero led Jezreel to a secluded nook in the gar- 
den, and after Jezreel had seated himself, said: 

‘‘ My; master requested me to learn of thy Ro- 
man kinsman, Lucius, and report to him. I did 
so and learned that my master’s opinion of him 
was correct. 

“ When Lucius first came here my master mis- 
trusted him and gave me orders to follow him and 
learn if he was what he pretended to be, and what 
his mission here. I went to his house, followed 
him to the banquet hall and elsewhere. Little by 
little I learned that he is a Roman spy sent here 
19 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


SO 

by Cestius to learn of the strength of the city and 
garrison, but he became infatuated with thy 
daughter, or, at least appeared to be, and neglected 
to return on time. 

‘‘ My master says that this Lucius holds an old 
grudge against him for loss of money at the games 
through my master winning over those he had 
staked. For this reason he wishes to estrange him 
from his sweetheart in revenge. There has also 
been a number of signal lights sent from the tower 
opposite the north gate which were made by Lucius. 
They were signals to watchmen on the hills who 
were connected with the Roman army. I am mak- 
ing these disclosures to thee, for my master in- 
tended to tell thee these things himself, but was 
not able to see thee before he was obliged to leave.” 

Jezreel had remained silent during Tero’s nar- 
rative and it was some minutes before he spoke. 
At last, as though under a great load, he said 
slowly : 

‘‘ It kindled in my heart a tender feeling for 
Lucius, to think that he journeyed here from love 
for his father’s only brother. Then of late I no- 
ticed that something seemed to be amiss, and this 
but confirms it all. God’s ways are sometimes 
hard to understand. Why could not his father 
have lived to train him in the way of the Christ he 
loved so well. 

Keep thy secret, Tero, and if thy master re- 
turns not by the time the sun peeps over yonder 
wall, come thou to my house.” 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


21 


Tero returned to the garrison, where he found 
some of the officers drinking and gambling. 

The next morning as the sun shone over the east 
wall of the city, Tero betook himself to the home 
of Jezreel. As he was entering, a runner was seen 
approaching, crying that the Romans were almost 
at the gates. 


CHAPTER IV 


After the departure of Onesimus the keepers of 
the gates, like a great many others, not believing 
that the Romans were near, left their posts. The 
gates, as was usual during the day, remained 
open. The guards upon the walls had deserted 
their posts, and the Romans were at the gates be- 
fore any one knew of their presence, as there were 
few going or coming at this hour. The surprise 
was complete. 

The Romans swarmed in at the gates, and then 
began the most awful slaughter which Joppa, in 
all its varied history, had ever experienced. 

Longinus, the captain in charge of the Romans 
coming into the city by the north gate, was an 
extremely brutal and vicious man, and none could 
expect even a merciful death from him or his men. 
In his campaigns against the Jews he had acquired, 
in addition to his brutal nature, a special delight 
in seeing mothers forced to stand by and watch 
their innocent little children being put to the 
sword, after which many w^ere assaulted and mur- 
dered. 

Lucius, in order to revenge himself on Onesimus, 
had consumed more time than he should have done, 
22 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


23 

and now he began to realize that he should have 
returned to the army long before this. The morn- 
ing of the attack he arose early, determined to re- 
turn. He visited each gatekeeper at the time they 
opened the gates and made them presents of wine 
containing sleeping potions, thinking perhaps 
they would sleep late into the day. He believed 
the army would attack the city that day, and felt 
very nervous, for he realized that in case he failed 
to get away before the attack his chances were few, 
and he wished also to try to arrange for the pro- 
tection of his uncle and family. 

Going to the barracks he secured Onesimus’ 
horse, expecting to start at once upon his return. 

As he was nearing the eastern gate the stillness 
of the early morning was broken by the wild hoarse 
battle cry of the madly rushing Romans. The 
soldiers dashed forward like an avalanche in their 
mad rush to annihilate and destroy the defenceless 
people and their homes. 

Across the open square a detachment led by 
Sohemus himself charged, the horsemen bending 
low as they rode, in an attempt to urge their steeds 
to a greater pace, the sooner to get at the horrible 
slaughter that was to utterly destroy the city and 
its inhabitants. The maddened horses, arrayed in 
gorgeous trappings, appeared to enjoy the ex- 
citement and confusion of the charge. The men 
were almost motionless, sitting like statues. So 
great was the suspense of the short time from the 
beginning of the charge to the time that they 


24 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


would be in the midst of a slaughter so awful and 
terribly cruel, that it is beyond the power of any 
picture or pen to portray. 


CHAPTER V 


At one time Joppa, like a great many other 
ancient cities, had its market place just outside 
one of the principal gates, but owing to the numer- 
ous vicissitudes through which it had passed, the 
venders had changed it to the inside of the east 
gate. There they were safer for the time, at least, 
from the prowling bands and armies that from 
time to time swooped down upon them like a hawk 
upon a sparrow. 

Lucius, with the help of a few confederates, had 
done a part of his work so well that, despite the 
troublesome rumors, those in the market place and 
in the vicinity of the gates had no fear and paid 
little heed to the possibility of approaching dan- 
ger. The Romans thus being able to approach 
the gates almost without detection, it was not at 
all remarkable that no soul escaped, except those 
of the household of Jezreel, and those only through 
the assistance of Lucius. 

The divisions came in at the different gates a 
seething, writhing mass, like the mad rush of a 
swollen river down a mountain side, until they 
reached the outskirts of the city where they sepa- 
rated into bands which penetrated every nook and 
corner of the place in their hunt for human prey. 

25 


26 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


Providence, it seemed, directed Sohemus in tak- 
ing the eastern gate, else he would have missed 
Lucius in the early part of the awful massacre, 
and Jezreel and his family would, in that event, 
have perished. 

As Sohemus and his followers dashed up, a 
horseman was seen coming towards them with the 
speed of the wind. 

“ Ye gods ! ” exclaimed Sohemus, as Lucius came 
up. “ Why hast thou remained so long.^ Know- 
est thou the peril of thy rash act? ” 

“ Full well I know the danger I ran, but I have 
no time now to explain, except to say that I have 
discovered my father’s only brother and his fam- 
ily, and I crave thy permission to save them from 
the fate that awaits the rest of the city.” 

“ Take thou a detachment and conduct thy kins- 
man and his family to the camp. Await there my 
return. Mark thou, let none of them see or know 
of the presence of other prisoners whom I have 
sent there already.” 

Plastily selecting his men and taking extra 
horses for the conveyance of his relatives, they 
started at full speed towards his uncle’s home, in 
an endeavor to reach it before the soldiers had 
gone so far. Fortune favored him and he arrived 
before the soldiers had reached that part of the 
city. 

Lucius was met at the gate by Jezreel, who had 
almost given up hope of escape. 

“ My uncle, hasten thou, and get every member 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


27 


of thy house ready for instant departure. The 
Romans are plundering and burning the city. 
The gods seem to have directed me this morning, 
for I met the General as he was coming into the 
city, and have secured permission for thee and thy 
household to leave. Had I missed him you would 
all have been butchered. He ordered me to con- 
duct you to his camp and there await him.” 

“ Does he intend, Lucius, to treat us as prison- 
ers? ” asked Jezreel. 

“ I presume so ; but, Uncle, is not that far bet- 
ter than the fate of thy neighbors? Hasten now, 
and prepare to leave else we may have trouble in 
getting out of the city.” 

Jezreel hurried into the house and soon all were 
ready and the start made. They made all haste 
to the south gate, encountering few obstacles on 
the way, though the streets were crowded with 
soldiers who seemed to> fill every open space. 

As they passed down the street their ears were 
greeted with the screams of helpless children, being 
butchered like sheep on every hand, the crying and 
pleading of mothers in vain attempt to save their 
little ones from such a horrible fate. Fathers 
were fighting in a most pitiable hopeless way and 
cursing the gods for their plight. 

In many places the soldiers, in their haste to 
gain any possible plunder, left some of their vic- 
tims only wounded, paying little heed to the cries 
and groans of those unfortunates, who must suffer 
and wait until the flames now raging all over the 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


city should reach and devour them, or some brutal 
coward put speedier end to their sufferings. 

The sights were such as would try the strongest 
nerves, and Sapphira and her aunt were nearly 
overcome as they made their way hurriedly along. 

“ Woe is me,” moaned Jezreel, “ for my loved 
ones and friends, for the beloved flock of the fol- 
lowers of Christ, for our homes and beautiful city. 
It seems all must be sacrificed on the altar of the 
fiendish Roman Emperor.” 

His faith momentarily weakened at the thoughts 
of the awful butchery he knew was taking place, 
knowing not at what moment a band of yelling 
demons would plunge down upon his family and he 
would be compelled to see the horrible indignities 
and suflTerings inflicted upon them. 

Miriam, seeing the agony of her husband, was 
sorely troubled. 

“ Oh God ! ” she cried in a heartrending voice, 
“ give us strength to stand the coming ordeal ; 
strengthen us that our faith may not waver in this 
hour of great trial.” 

As they gained the hills overlooking the city 
and looked back, they could see the city burning 
in many places. 

After about an hour’s march they reached the 
camp. 

Lucius conducted them to the opposite side of 
the camp from that where the other prisoners were 
confined, and hastened back to the burning city. 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 29 

While he dreaded the sight, yet a morbid curiosity 
compelled him to return. 

The soldiers had scattered throughout the entire 
city, — no mercy was shown, — and it seemed a 
pleasure for the brutal soldiers to cause as much 
pain and suffering as possible to this most unfor- 
tunate people, their helpless victims. 

Mothers and fathers were made to witness the 
murdering of their helpless children, and were then 
themselves put to the sword. Ditches and cellars 
were filled with the dead and dying. 

Lucius arrived at the city when every nook and 
corner was filled with a fiendish murdering horde 
of soldiers. 

When he neared the gate his eyes beheld a sight 
terrible beyond all description. Not having been 
raised in the army he was not accustomed to such 
scenes. Some of the soldiers had in their plun- 
dering found wines of various kinds and a goodly 
number of them were intoxicated. 

Lucius was thus a spectator to one of those un- 
fortunate revolting scenes of massacre, cruelty 
and crime, the details of which history does not 
record. 

Men were tortured in every conceivable way, 
their limbs broken, their bodies mutilated, and 
their most sacred feelings outraged, to force them 
to a confession of hidden treasure. Many a poor 
wretch died under the torments inflicted, protest- 
ing with his' dying breath that he could not reveal 


30 ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 

the hiding place of that which he had never pos- 
sessed. 

It was not the intention of those in command to 
cause unnecessary suffering and pain, but after 
the bulk of soldiers, not used to the refining in- 
fluences of the home circle, had been released from 
strict discipline of their officers, and had sepa- 
rated, going here and there looking for signs of 
life from cellar to garret, picking up plunder here 
and drinking there, they soon lost what sense of 
manhood they had ever possessed, and became as 
a band of savages on murder bent. 

Every avenue of escape was effectually cut off. 
Soldiers were coming in at every gate, turning to 
the right and to the left. As there was no organ- 
ized resistance it was not possible for any to 
escape. The small force at the barracks, when 
they realized what was taking place, grasped 
their arms, hurriedly buckled on their armor and 
were soon ready for the unequal combat. 

The little band fought with that desperate 
fierceness possessed only by men knowing that they 
are doomed from the outset. With their small 
number against the thousands it could not be 
otherwise. 

A great many died cursing the God they had 
never known. 

One of the most painful things about this whole- 
sale massacre was that, as a result of the sudden- 
ness of the attack, families were separated and 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


31 


murdered with never an opportunity to bid loved 
ones a last fond farewell. 

Lucius went down the street on which his uncle’s 
house was situated. It was now a mass of burn- 
ing ruins. Then he passed on towards the garri- 
son, which was also in flames. The city was on 
fire from one side to the other, the total popula- 
tion murdered. 

For many hours was Joppa thus occupied, until 
like a nut whose meat is gone, the shell is con- 
signed to the fire and crumbles to ashes. 

The number of inhabitants slain was eight thou- 
sand four hundred.^ 

When the city was entirely destroyed and there 
remained no signs of life, Sohemus loaded into the 
army carts the public treasure, consisting mostly 
of gold and silver bullion, together with much 
plate and ornaments from private residences and 
the idols and other valuables from the temples, for 
transportation to headquarters. 


i Josephus II: 18:10. 


CHAPTER VI 


The following afternoon Sohemus sat in his tent 
pondering over the problem of the disposition of 
the prisoners. 

Onesimus had served him at the games and in 
return he had saved the life of Onesimus, which 
was done at great risk as it was contrary to his 
orders to take any prisoners. Then again, Lucius 
was on very friendly terms with Nero and to re- 
fuse to permit him to save his uncle’s family might 
cause trouble. 

Sohemus, knowing the weakness of Lucius, and 
wishing to avoid trouble with him, decided to send 
him to Rome with dispatches, as he was determined 
not to set his relatives at liberty. He knew Lu- 
cius had wealth and influence and that he must 
act quickly before matters became complicated. 
He dispatched an attendant for Lucius, who soon 
approached, saluted, and said: 

“What are thy wishes?” 

“ Can I trust thee with important letters ? ” 
asked the crafty old general. 

“ Canst thou trust me? Dost thou wish to in- 
sult me? Well knowest thou — ” 

“ Tut, tut, — don’t get angry, lad. Remember 
these dispatches are important and in case they 
32 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


SS 


are lost, on me rests the burden of the blame. 
This packet thou wilt find addressed. Make haste 
and see that it is delivered to none other than he 
for whom it is intended.” 

“ Thy request shall be given my best efforts,” 
replied Lucius, as he saluted. 

Repairing to his tent he made hasty prepara- 
tions for departure. 

Having made the necessary arrangements for 
his journey, he thought of Sapphira and her peo- 
ple, and returned again to the general’s quarters 
to make arrangements for the release of his rela- 
tives. When he neared the tent he found it closed 
and guards placed who barred his approach. 

“ I wish to see the general,” he said, addressing 
the guard. 

“ That, sir, is impossible, since he has given 
strict orders that he is not to be disturbed. He 
wishes to rest, being very weary from his work,” 
answered the guard. 

“ But I must see him before I leave,” replied 
Lucius. ‘‘ And I must start at once, or incur his 
displeasure.” 

“ I have my orders and shall obey them. Thou 
canst wait until he awakens, or go now and see him 
upon thy return.” 

Lucius having promised a compliance with So- 
hemus’ wish, which he must obey, yet hesitated to 
go without seeing to his relatives’ welfare. Be- 
lieving, however, that nothing would be done ere 
his return, he set out on his journey. 


34 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


When Sohemus awoke he prepared at once for 
departure to Csesarea.^ 


1 Caesarea, Palestine, is thirty miles north of J oppa, and 
about the same distance northwest of Jerusalem. It was 
built by Herod about 22 b.c. Enormous sums of money 
were spent in the erection of public buildings; it was, how- 
ever, the building of the artificial harbor that brought the 
city into prominence, while it soon became a great slave 
market. Immense blocks of stone were brought from a 
great distance and sunk to a depth of twenty fathoms in 
the sea, forming a semicircular mole. It protected the 
port on the south and west, with a sufficient opening for 
vessels to enter from the north. 


CHAPTER VII 


The sun was just peeping over the eastern hills, 
as Onesimus, with many other prisoners who had 
been brought to Caesarea to be sold into slavery, 
were aroused to be taken to the market place. 

The city was awakening to life as they went 
forth. On the low flat tops of the houses figures 
began to appear here and there, spreading rugs 
of skins and tapestry near the stone parapets and 
coping, on which they knelt in prayer. 

The Roman theater and the columns of the 
arena beyond the barracks stood out in grand re- 
lief under the glories of the newly risen sun. 

Everything seemed peaceful and at rest with- 
out and around him, but within a terrible tempest 
was raging. The awful possibilities of the con- 
ditions he must soon face prevented Onesimus from 
receiving any inspiration, or any rest or comfort, 
from the peaceful purity which the early morning 
brought. 

As he was led forth, he was greatly surprised to 
see Sapphira and the members of her family, to- 
gether with other slaves, brought in. He was, 
however, not permitted to address any of his 
friends. As they drew near the market place a 
sight met his gaze that sent a shudder through his 
35 


36 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


frame. There he saw a line of slaves, men, women 
and little children, all chained together like beasts. 

Many of the little tots, evidently fatigued and 
worn, were supported by their mothers as best they 
could be while they slept, and for the time at least 
they were free from pain, and were unconscious 
of the anguish that awaited them, in their separa- 
tion from father, mother, brothers and sisters, as 
the families were broken up and purchased by 
different masters. 

Here and there also were groups of slaves 
brought in by more humane masters. At one side 
stood a group of girls. Some of them were coarse 
featured and ungainly in appearance, whose fate 
perhaps it would be to be sold to toil in the fields 
or at the shadoof,^ mayhap the mines. 

Others there were who possessed rare beauty and 
grace, and charming form, and even a worse fate 
awaited these, for they were generally sold for 
dancing girls and for hire. These latter ones 
were clad in beautiful clinging silks and fine linens, 

1 Shadoof : a contrivance extensively employed in Egypt 
and the East generally for raising water. It consists of 
a long stout rod suspended on a frame at about one-fifth 
of its length from the end. The short end is weighted 
so as to serve as a counterpoise of a lever, and from the 
long end a bucket is suspended by a rope. The shadoof 
is extensively used in Egypt for lifting water from the 
Nile for irrigation. The worker dips the bucket in the 
river, and aided by the counter-poise weight, empties it 
into a hole dug on the bank, from which a runnel conducts 
the water to the lands to be irrigated. {Century Diction^- 
ary and Cyclopedia.) 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


37 


with bare shoulders and jewel adorned hair. No 
expense or pains had been spared to make them' 
fair and pleasing to look upon, that they might 
bring a good price to their masters. 

At the quay near by, the fishermen were gath- 
ered in groups talking and singing as they made 
preparations for going to their work. 

On either hand and all around was a perfect 
babel of sounds. Some were joking and singing, 
some laughing and happy, while still others were 
crying and cursing the irony of fate. 

It went to Onesimus’ head like strong wine, 
though he had witnessed such scenes before, and 
besides, he felt crushed, beaten and undone. Al- 
together it affected him strangely. 

The hour of the sale was near at hand and his 
attention was directed by the scream of a child 
to the band of slaves which were chained together ; 
he looked up just in time to see the recoil of the 
heavy cruel looking whip with which the slave 
driver had struck the child for no greater offence 
than failure to awaken quickly from its slumber at 
its mother’s knee. The driver was ugly and 
vicious looking. He had slouching shoulders, and 
a fat greasy face, from which gleamed small, pig- 
like eyes which were black and cruel. 

He jerked at the chain, cursing the while, and 
threatened all with the whip who did not rouse 
up, as the sale was starting and the prospective 
buyers were looking here and there for those who 
would meet their requirements or take their fancy. 


CHAPTER VIII 


Philemon, a merchant of Colossae, wishing to 
purchase additional slaves for his galleys, had 
journeyed to Caesarea, it being a great slave mar- 
ket at that time. 

The sale was well under way when he reached 
the market, and he arrived just as Onesimus was 
brought forward. 

“ Just the man for an oar,” said Philemon to 
himself, as he noted the superb form of Onesimus. 

Evidently there were others who thought the 
same, for the bidding was lively and when Onesi- 
mus was sold to Philemon it was at a figure far 
above the average for his kind. 

After Philemon had purchased the required 
number of slaves to give the necessary comple- 
ment to his galleys, he returned to Colossae, giving 
the slaves into the care of the ship’s officers. 

The galley to which Onesimus was assigned was 
of the large merchant type, shallow, and flat 
decked, and carried two masts. They were sel- 
dom able to use their broad sails except in balmy 
weather, when the sea was calm ; trusting rather to 
the brute strength of the rowers and their broad 
oars, except when out of sight of land and fearful 
of being surprised by a sudden storm that often 
came up, lashing the Mediterranean to madness. 

38 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


39 


They were fair weather creatures and could not 
well stand the storm which tossed them about, 
usually, utterly helpless. 

At times when the sea was perfectly calm and 
the indications pointed to a spell of fair weather, 
the sails were raised and the ship would thus make 
better time. It did not, however, make it easier 
for the rowers as one might suppose, for the time 
of the stroke was increased as the speed of the 
ship increased, which made the work more fatigu- 
ing to the poor slaves. 

As Onesimus came aboard the ship his eye took 
in every detail of the vessel, from bow to stern, 
before he was taken below to his place at the oars. 

At the stern of the ship there was a covered 
chamber in which the officers had their quarters. 

On the high poop deck above stood the tent- 
like house of the helmsman, just under the volute.^ 
From this point he directed the rudder to right or 
left of the stern. By means of a rope running 
straight across the vessel the rudders were always 
kept parallel, this being peculiar to most ships of 
that day. 

At the rear end of the cabin there was a plat- 
form upon which sat the hortator ^ who beat upon 
a sounding table with a gavel to mark time for 
the oarsmen. Near at hand was a clepsydra ^ to 

1 Both stem and stern posts ended in a volute, or spiral 
scroll. 

2 Hortator: the chief of the rowers. 

3 Clepsydra: water clock. 


40 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


measure the relief of the slave at the oar, as well 
as officers and sailors. 

This being a “ round ship ” it differed from the 
usual galley in being much shorter and broader, 
and accommodated but one bank of oars. The 
oars were made fast between pegs, by means of 
leather straps to prevent their slipping. The 
handles were loaded with lead, and, being hung by 
straps, it was necessary that the rowers become 
very skillful in handling them, as it required a sen- 
sitive touch to feather the oar, as well as a strong 
and powerful hand to prevent an unexpected wave 
from catching the blade and throwing the rower 
from his bench. 

In spite of the fact that each rower got plenty 
of light and air from his oar-hole, his condition 
was extremely hard. Laboring day after day 
without speech; he could neither laugh nor sing 
to help break the terrible monotony ; the short re- 
spite given him being used for sleep and the de- 
vouring of his food. During the hours of labor 
he dared not turn his head for one friendly glance 
from a fellow sufferer. The eye must be kept 
continually upon the oar. Sick or well, during 
winter or summer, their only bed was a board a 
foot and a half in width ; the sleeping places most 
dreaded were those nearest the officers, for if any 
slave rattled his chains and awoke an officer, he 
was sure to be punished. 

At every fall of the chief’s gavel the oars rose 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


41 


and fell as one. The fatigue of lifting the great 
oars of a galley constantly, day after day, and 
year after year, with no change or intermission 
except the short rest during change of relief, was 
great, and few long survived the severe physical 
and mental strain. 

The rowers rise to draw their stroke and then 
fall back with a bumping jerk. In all seasons, 
hot or cold, the perspiration trickles down their 
jaded and weary limbs, and when they grow faint 
and toil worn and the stroke loses its speed and 
force, an officer goes down the gang-board which 
runs along the sides of the benches to hunt out 
the weary one and bring him up for punishment. 
Weak or lazy, dying or worn out, they cared not. 
He might be a mere slip of a boy or a decrepit 
old man; down on his bare and defenseless shoul- 
ders and back came the lash of the officer’s whip, 
which was so long that generally the second or 
third nearest rowers also felt the blow, that made 
marks and welts which for many days served as 
a reminder not to repeat the offense. To growl, 
groan or curse would only draw additional punish- 
ment and hardship. Renewed energy and toil 
were the only signs of submission. 

To sustain them for their hardships the slaves 
received every morning some biscuits, late in the 
forenoon a bowl of hot water soup with some ran- 
cid oil, and musty peas and beans floating on the 
top. For supper they were given some half 


42 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


cooked fish and biscuit. When on duty they were 
also given two-thirds of a pint of poor wine. 

Onesimus soon learned all there was to learn 
about the art of handling an oar, and all motions 
were soon made in an instinctive mechanical way, 
with barely a thought, for his mind was far away 
many times. 

The continued strain of the long service was 
brutalizing to most of the poor wretches, but to 
Onesimus it was maddening. Like many others 
of his class, he knew not the Christians’ God that 
might bring comfort in the hours of severest trial. 
He had implored the gods and they had turned a 
deaf ear, and then he cursed them for his ill luck 
and their desertion of him in the hour of dire ex- 
tremity. He asked himself many times what he 
might have done to incur their displeasure. He 
grasped the oar in a maddening grip and cursed 
as he declared to himself that he had done no man 
a wrong, yet they heeded not his supplications. 

Then a voice, as a whisper, seemed to speak in 
his soul and say : “ Come unto me, all ye that 

labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you 
rest.” The words of his good old uncle returned 
again to him, pleading for him to turn to Christ, 
as the only source of comfort for the careworn 
and weary heart. 

All of the gods had turned deaf ears, why not 
turn to the Christians’ God.?* Then he told him- 
self there could be no love for one on whom such 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


43 


torments were inflicted. There was no hope or 
happiness in that day for him and he was de- 
nouncing heathen gods and swearing there was no 
other God, as the gong sounded a change of relief. 


/ 


CHAPTER IX 

We will pass over a portion of Onesimus’ stay 
on the galley, as it was but a dreary waste of time. 

Since he entered the ship he had become pos- 
sessed by the idea that somehow, somewhere, there 
were better times of peace and plenty. This 
thought he could not dismiss from his mind. It 
made his servitude more miserable and harder to 
bear. The. more he tried to dismiss it from his 
mind, the more he thought of it. At last he de- 
termined to escape, or die in an attempt, as death 
in a fight for liberty would be far better than life 
as a galley slave, which in the end could only re- 
sult in a wretched death. 

Having thoroughly made up his mind to take 
advantage of the first opportunity, however slight 
it might be, it seemed as though a great burden had 
been lifted from his shoulders. 

He waited impatiently for that time, yet the 
terrible depression of spirit was gone, and he was 
much happier. He went to his work at each 
change of relief with a lighter heart than he had 
known since he was made a prisoner. 

The merry twinkling of the lights of Alexandria 
began to come into view in rapid succession as the 
vessel drew nearer unto port. The wondrous 
44 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


45 


moon was shining forth in all its glory. To the 
slaves down in the heart of the ship at their never 
ending, monotonous task, the beauty of such an 
evening had no charm. They knew not their 
whereabouts, or that they were approaching a 
port. 

Onesimus, being one of those whose good for- 
tune it was to be placed under one of the hatches, 
could thus in nice weather get a view of the blue 
sky above when the hatches were left uncovered. 
On this evening Onesimus was thinking, as he gazed 
at the stars through the open hatch, of the happy 
days gone by and wondering what fate the future 
had in store for him. 

He was suddenly aroused from his reverie by 
the signal of the hortator’s gavel to rest upon their 
oars. 

Hour after hour and day after day they had 
been rowing, knowing not where they were going; 
knowing only that they were traveling the track- 
less waste of a dreary sea. 

As the order to rest upon the oars was received, 
Onesimus’ heart beat faster, for were they not en- 
tering a harbor and might not this offer a chance 
of escape.^ He longed to know where they were, 
but it mattered not if he did not escape, and if 
he did he would soon learn. 

To every bench there was fastened a chain with 
anklets, which were locked upon the rower while 
in harbor to prevent escape. As soon as the com- 
mand to rest the oars was given, a petty officer 


46 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


came down the gang-board and locked the anklets 
on each slave. When he reached Onesimus he put 
the anklet on, but in his haste he did not get it 
securely locked, a fact that Onesimus soon learned 
with a sensation as if his heart had stopped beat- 
ing. Surely the gods had heard his prayer and 
would assist him to escape! 

The dim, dingy cabin, which had been for so 
long repulsive to his nature, was now looked upon 
almost with pleasure ; hope kept whispering to him 
that his time of servitude was soon to end. 

At a signal from the hortator every oar 
dropped straight down, causing the ship to tremble 
with the strain on the oars in the surging water, 
thus checking the speed. At another order they 
rested their oars, the speed being then just suffi- 
cient for the helmsman to bring the ship broadside 
to where its great dark side bumped gently against 
the quay. 

The rector ^ gave a few orders ; ropes were 
quickly passed to men on the quay, the ship was 
soon made fast, and the work of bringing the boat 
to was done quickly, skillfully and silently. 

Onesimus listened to the bumping of the ship 
against the quay, the creaking of the blocks as she 
strained at the hawsers while being made fast. 

He peered out of the oar port, but, being on 
the opposite side from the quay, could discern 
nothing. 

The stars no longer seemed to dance in the dis- 
1 Rector — name applied to pilot. 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


47 


tance and the movement of the boat had ceased. 
Shuffling of feet overhead indicated the retiring of 
officers and crew. 

It was a late hour and the officers placed the 
watch and quickly retired. 

Onesimus had waited impatiently for what 
seemed to him an age, after all was quiet, before 
he dared to try his first opportunity and attempt 
to escape. 

At last he set about to free himself from the 
anklet. It required but a moment, then he looked 
around furtively and examined as well as he could 
in the dim light each one of the rowers. He be- 
lieved that all were asleep, as they had had a hard 
day at the oars. He doubted very much if any 
of them would betray him even should they see 
him leave, yet liberty was so dear to him that he 
would not risk a single eye seeing him. 

Assuring himself that all were sound asleep he 
stealthily crept towards the companionway, up 
which he quickly passed. 

As he reached the deck he saw that it was a 
lovely starlight night, with the moon shining upon 
the sea, which was peaceful and calm. 

In the bright light of the moon he hesitated, but 
he could not falter now, and to be discovered meant 
death; he must go on. 

He stopped a few moments to listen and peer 
around. There was the watch pacing quietly back 
and forth. To the rear was the officers’ cabin; 
this he must reach, for he had no money and no 


48 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


clpthes; both he must have if he was to make his 
escape effectual. 

He waited until the watch was at the bow, then 
slyly he went creeping along the rail, thus hoping 
to be less conspicuous. He made his way as 
rapidly as possible to the rear, where the moon 
cast a dark shadow in front of the officers’ cabin. 
Here he stood up and approached the door, which, 
to his surprise and satisfaction, he found un- 
locked and slightly ajar. The rector had not 
closed it, as it was a beautiful night and very 
warm. 

Onesimus approached the door and listened ; 
there was not a sound, save the heavy breathing 
of the rector which told of deep and undisturbed 
sleep. He pushed the door lightly with his hand, 
using the utmost caution. It swung slowly back 
at his touch. He stepped closer to the opening 
and stooped to listen. There was no sound within 
save the regular breathing, which was almost a 
snore. He waited a short time before venturing 
to open the door further. Finally he summoned 
up courage and pushed the door with less caution, 
when to his horror and dismay there arose on the 
night air a harsh grating sound such as only an 
old rusty hinge can make. 

The noise staggered him, and he imagined as he 
listened that he could hear the steps of the watch 
and other officers approaching. He saw himself 
seized by the guard and hurried down into the 
hold, there to await the punishment that was cer- 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


49 


tain to follow on the morrow. He pressed his 
hands against his temples, where the blood was 
surging through the arteries as though they would 
burst. 

In dismay he leaned against the side of the 
cabin to await the guards whom he felt sure would 
be upon him in a few moments, for it could not be 
possible that they had not heard that dreadful 
sound. He believed himself lost and saw visions 
of vanishing glory and greatness which he felt 
certain he could have realized had he been fortu- 
nate enough to escape and to conceal his identity. 

Why did not the guards seize him and have it 
over with.'* Why the torture of this delay.? 

He stood there like a statue not daring to move 
for what seemed to him like hours, when in reality 
it was only a few moments. 

At last, when the door remained as he had left it, 
and all was quiet, he began to wonder if the guards 
had missed him. He peered down the deck. At 
the bow stood the watchman gazing off over the 
wide moonlit sea. He saw no one else and heard 
no sound. Was it possible that no one had heard 
that rasping noise.? Was there yet a chance? 
He again approached the door and looked in. 
The moon was shining through the window, mak- 
ing it sufficiently light for his purpose. There, 
•all unconscious of any trouble, lay the rector. 
Onesimus, now feeling less fear and gaining confi- 
dence in himself, quickly approached the bench 
whereon lay the rector’s clothing, and hastily 


50 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


searching the pockets for keys he found them, and 
was soon bending over the chest that contained 
what treasure the ship carried. It took but a mo- 
ment to select a sack of coin and close and lock 
the box. 

He now looked for some clothes, and finding a 
number of garments hanging on the wall he selected 
those which were best suited to his needs, and was 
soon on deck again. 

Stopping now and then to listen, fearing and 
trembling lest by some chance he should be dis- 
covered, he crept along the rail, keeping in the 
shadow as much as possible, until he reached that 
portion of the ship which rested against the quay. 

The watchman had again resumed his pacing to 
and fro from one end of the ship to the other, and 
fortunately for Onesimus this time he passed on the 
further side of the boat. 

At a moment when he was out of sight, Onesimus 
raised himself swiftly and casting a furtive glance 
around to assure himself that he was not observed, 
grasped the rail and swung himself over the side 
and dropped to the quay below. 

The torches that a short time before had flared 
and flickered in the breeze to illuminate the quay 
were now extinguished. There was no sound to be 
heard except the swash of the waters. 

Night had spread her mantle of peace over the 
entire city. 

Standing there, filling his lungs again and again 
with the pure fresh air which was in such contrast 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


51 


with the foul heavy atmosphere in the hold of the 
galley, a sense of joy thrilled him. It was hard to 
realize that he was free once more. He stood thus 
a few moments, intoxicated with the fresh pure air 
and his emotions. 

Finally, glancing towards the galley, he saw 
that the watch was still pacing to and fro, which 
was proof that his absence had not been discov- 
ered. 

A moment he stood there ; the heavens were cur- 
tained with a beautiful network of gleaming stars. 
Towards the city the towers and minarets stood 
out dark and gloomy against the sky, with only an 
occasional light gleaming softly here and there. 

The pulse of the great city had nearly ceased to 
beat, and it lay still and quiet in the dark purple 
of the night. 

He contemplated calmly the somber scene be- 
fore him and he wondered if man would now step 
from out his way and let him follow the course 
which destiny and the immutable law of the uni- 
verse had mapped out for him. 

Onesimus now turned toward the city and be- 
fore long was in the very heart of sleeping Alex- 
andria, with its maze of crooked streets and al- 
leys. Feeling that for the time at least he was 
safe, he walked with leisure, there being plenty of 
time, it being only necessary to reach Pharos ^ by 

1 Pharos, an island connected with the mainland by a 
mole seven-eighths of a mile long. This mole was called 
the Heptastadium. It had two bridges that could be raised 


52 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


the dawn of the coming day, as the bridges of the 
Heptastadium ^ would not be open until then. 

Onesimus, being very tired and weary, hunted a 
secluded spot and lay down for a short rest. 


and lowered at pleasure. The island of Pharos was from 
an early period a haven of refuge for sea rovers, a fact 
commemorated by the name “ Pirates’ Bay ” given to a 
deep indentation on the north side of the island. 

2 Heptastadium, a great mole built by Ptolemy Soter 
117-81 B.C., which connected the island of Pharos with the 
mainland at Alexandria, Egypt; so called as its length 
was seven stadia (about seven-eighths of a mile). There 
were two breaks in the mole, crossed by two bridges, which 
could be raised and lowered at pleasure. 


CHAPTER X 


Alexandria was the most magnificent city of the 
Greco-Roman world. The mandate of kings and 
emperors could not build and maintain a city of 
such greatness that it would come down to us as 
has this city, unless so situated that the site would 
command the commerce that would cause it to live 
and flourish throughout the succeeding ages. 

The penetrating gaze of Alexander the Great 
saw the possibilities of this location, and he himself 
laid out the city, planning that it should become 
the world’s metropolis. The future proved the 
wisdom of his judgment, for in five years Alexan- 
dria was one of the greatest cities of the world and 
in the front rank of the world’s commerce. 

From the Nile came the vast wealth of Africa. 
Caravans from far and near, — from the oases of 
the desert and the far East, brought their treasure 
here. India poured into the city her masses of 
silver and gold, her pearls and precious gems. 

The commerce of distant and unknown lands 
and of sunny climes were centered here. Its har- 
bor soon became one of the most important in the 
world’s commerce. 

The people were a peculiar mixture, tempestu- 
ous and on pleasure bent; much given to gambling 
53 


54 ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 

and dissipation; passionately fond of music, and 
prtistic. 

Alexandria was a remarkably beautiful city. 
There were two great boulevards lined with mag- 
nificent trees and sprinkled here and there with 
beautiful flowers, fountains and statuary. Inter- 
spersed throughout the city were parks and gar- 
dens, brilliant and beautiful with their artistic 
arrangement of rare and tropical flowers, plants 
and shrubbery, which, together with the obelisks 
and sphinxes, reminded one that they stood at the 
threshold of mysterious Egypt and the desert. 

The modern city of Alexandria stands partly 
on what was the island of Pharos, now a penin- 
sula, but mostly on the isthmus by which it is con- 
nected with the mainland. This was originally an 
artificial dyke connecting the island with the main 
land opposite, but through the constant accumu- 
lation of soil and ruins it has attained its present 
dimensions. 

The ancient city was situated on the mainland 
which is adjacent to the modern city, and the ex- 
tent of the ruins that still exist sufficiently attests 
its greatness. 

It was here, also, that the greatest, if not the 
first, lighthouse ^ of the ancient world was erected, 
about three hundred years b.c. by Ptolemy Phila- 
delphus, and was destroyed by an earthquake in 
the fourteenth century. 

But for the yelping of some dogs that happened 
1 It is estimated that this lighthouse cost $1,240,000. 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


55 


to be fighting near Onesimus, he would undoubtedly 
have slept until some passerby might have awak- 
ened him the next day. As it was, it was quite 
early, yet there were a good many people stirring. 

He jumped to his feet hastily and, glancing 
around to make sure that he was not being spied 
upon, he walked rapidly toward the Heptasta- 
dium. 

The nearer he came to safety the more he hur- 
ried, though he refrained from running lest he 
might attract the attention of some one who might 
have heard of his escape, for it was certain to be 
known before this. 

At last he reached the Heptastadium. 

Hurrying on he soon reached and passed over 
the first bridge. Then for the first time since his 
capture he felt that peace of mind which those 
who have never been a slave unconsciously experi- 
ence. 

Onesimus now felt some of his old time pride 
and spirit returning. He straightened up, threw 
his shoulders back and walked leisurely towards 
the second bridge with all fear of capture vanish- 
ing. 

While Pharos was not and never had been a ref- 
uge for runaway slaves, yet he felt sure that he 
would find friends there who would protect and 
shield him if his hiding place were discovered. 
Should he not find such friends, he knew that in 
the bundle he carried there was that which would 
command their favors. 


56 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


Onesimus soon reached the island and , feeling 
very hungry and tired he visited an inn, and after 
a hearty meal he went down to the seashore to 
reflect on past events, and to try and settle on some 
plan of action for the future. 

A number of plans were followed out to a prob- 
able conclusion, but all were found defective. 

At last! A thought! He jumped to his feet, 
exclaiming : 

“ Excellent ! I will do it ; I will yet win fame, 
and the time will yet come when I may put my foot 
on that wretch Lucius, and crush him as I would 
a detestable spider.” 

His mind made up, he started at once to put his 
plan into execution. 


' BOOK TWO 


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CHAPTER I 


It is now necessary to take the reader back a few 
years, that he may become acquainted with a friend 
of Onesimus who had a great deal to do with our 
hero’s future destiny. 

Lying thirty-four miles northwest of Damascus, 
at the northern extremity of a low range of bleak 
hills, in ancient Coele-Syria,^ and about one mile 
from the base of Anti-Lebanon, in a well-watered 
and beautiful locality, stood Baalbec, signifying 
the “ City of the Baal,” the sun-god. The name 
was changed by the Greeks, during the Seleucidan 
dynasty,^ into its Greek equivalent, Heliopolis. 

The early history of Baalbec is lost in the mists 
of centuries. The silence of the classical writers 
regarding it seems to imply that it had previously 
been known by some other name, while numerous 
attempts have been made to identify it with certain 
places mentioned in the Bible, as Baalgad, in the 

1 Coele-Syria; the hollow of Syria. A valley in Syria, 
lying between Lebanon and Anti-Lebanon, watered by the 
Leontes and the Orontes. The name was also used for an 
extensive tract of country east of the Jordan, extending to 
Damascus and even to the borders of Egypt. 

2 Seleucids, or Seleucidae: a royal dynasty in Syria which 
reigned 312 b.c. to about 64 b.c. Descended from Seleucus 
Nicator. (^Century Dictionary and Cyclopedia.) 

59 


60 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


valley of Lebanon (Joshua 11 : 17) ; Baalath, one 
of Solomon’s cities (I Kings 9:18); Baal-hamon, 
where Solomon had a vineyard (Cant. 8:2), etc. 

Some prominent authorities claim that Solomon 
built the city for the Queen of Sheba, while many 
stories are told of the manner in which this wise and 
voluptuous prince spent his hours of dalliance with 
Pharaoh’s daughter in this retreat, which he had 
built for her. 

The choice of this location was worthy of, and 
confirms his wisdom, for here sprang up one of the 
most magnificent of Syrian cities, and a fitting 
place for an Eastern monarch to enjoy his favorite 
pleasures amidst the streams and shade in the lux- 
urious retirement of beautiful Baalbec. 

Located in a land which had from time immemo- 
rial been the battlefield for the empires of western 
Asia oh the one hand, and those of Egypt and 
Africa on the other, lying on the high road of com- 
merce between Tyre and Palmyra and the farther 
East, it was one of the most important cities in the 
land, and one of wealth and splendor. 

Baalbec was enriched with stately palaces and 
monuments ; the public and private gardens were 
adorned with fountains and statuary, and beautiful 
flowers and shrubbery. Many of the public streets 
and driveways were lined with wide spreading trees. 

The city was surrounded by a wall, the circuit 
of which was about two miles. 

As one entered either of the four gates and ob- 
tained a first view of the city, he was astonished 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


61 


at the richness and greatness of the majestic tem- 
ples which were marvelous and wonderful works of 
architecture. 

On the right of the north gate, upon an elevation 
of about twenty feet, stood the quadrangle shaped 
court, four hundred and forty feet long by three 
hundred and seventy in width. The portico of the 
court was reached by a broad flight of steps nearly 
one hundred and fifty feet in length, and fifty feet 
in width. This great court and temples surpassed 
those of Greece and Rome in vastness and boldness 
of their design, the symmetrical proportions, and 
the delicate execution of their elaborate decora- 
tions. 

The ruins of these temples have been the wonder 
of past centuries, and they will continue to be the 
wonder of future generations. 

At the west of the great court, standing upon a 
stylobate three hundred feet long and two hundred 
and forty feet wide and considerable higher than 
the great court, was the Temple of Baal, or of the 
Sun, which was reached by a broad flight of steps. 
Here, with great pomp and magnificence, the Sun 
was worshipped under the name of Baal, which, in 
the Eastern language, signifies Lord or Master, 
and the many human victims that were sacrificed to 
him shows how completely the people were wrapped 
in superstition and religious beliefs, and the awful 
reverence paid at- the behest of the priesthood, 
which w’ould go to ;any extremes to keep the people 
in complete subjugation, and to hold aristocratic 


62 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


Baalbec true to the ancient faith and beliefs of 
their pagan ancestors. 

Here was also located the temple wherein Venus, 
under the name of Hedone, the voluptuous god- 
dess of pleasure, was worshiped. 

The new God, the Nazarene, was for the poor 
and needy, the humble tradesmen and slaves. 

Here also were located celebrated schools of 
learning. First there was the high school in which 
priests, astronomers, physicians, judges, and all 
other learned men could receive their education, 
and after they had won admission to the highest 
ranks of learning and had attained the honor of 
“ scribe,” they were eligible and able to pursue 
their educational researches in freedom from all 
care, and associated with fellow workers of equal 
birth and like interests in the temple university. 

This school maintained one of the largest and 
finest of libraries, which was a very desirable thing 
in a school for higher education. 

After the scribe had proved his fitness by the 
required Examination, he was intrusted with the 
education of those not so far advanced. 

This school had a separate building for temple 
boarders. These were young men of wealthy par- 
entage who came from a distance, intending to 
take the necessary course which would fit them 
for the degree of “ scribe,” and in many cases they 
intended joining the priesthood. All of these 
scholars were brought up by the priests. 

As the student passed from the high school to 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


63 


temple university he was required to undergo a 
rigid examination. The successful student was al- 
lowed to choose his tutor from among the most 
learned of the higher graduates, who was required 
to act as his philosophical guide. Such selections 
were usually made with great care, as they were 
expected to, and did as a rule, remain fast friends 
through life. 

At each upward step they were required to pass 
examinations. Here also all of the arts, archi- 
tecture, sculpture, painting, etc., were taught. 

In this department, as in the other higher de- 
partments, the student could, if he so desired, 
choose a master. 

Upon the entrance of Onesimus to the temple 
university he had chosen Adeil as his master. 

Adeil was a most remarkable person. He was 
the youngest scribe who had ever advanced to the 
head of the temple brotherhood. Here he was a 
power because of his wisdom and logic. His ex- 
emplary life was pointed to by the priests with 
pride. 

The older priests endeavored to train the young 
scholars in a path that would bring them at an 
early age to a condition that pleased them, as did 
the life of Adeil. 

Because of his high standing and character he 
had more privileges than the average young mas- 
ter. 

During his summer vacations Adeil was accus- 
tomed to journey into the foot hills and mountains 


64 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


in search of herbs and plants that might be of 
benefit to the medical department of the school. 

He was a handsome young fellow, and, while 
devoted to his duties at the school, he was uncer- 
tain whether he should continue in his present 
capacity ; in fact, he had about decided to leave 
the priesthood and enter some other calling which 
would allow him to marry. 

The school term was ended and most of the stu- 
dents were looking about in search of various 
pleasures and amusements to occupy their mind 
during the vacation period. 

Instead of looking for amusement Adeil was 
making hurried preparations for a journey to the 
Nile. 

Heretofore he had, each season, gone into the 
foot hills and mountains ; but as no Syrian priest 
was accounted fully learned until he had so- 
journed for a certain period on the banks of the 
Nile; had conversed with the philosophers on the 
mysteries of science; studied the laws, the govern- 
ment and the institutions of the most remarkable 
people that ever existed; examined and explored 
their everlasting monuments, and become in some 
measure initiated into the wisdom of the Egyp- 
tians, he decided that even should he leave the 
priesthood later he would complete his education 
along the lines laid down for one in his position. 

A sultry day was just drawing to a close. 
Evening in all the glory of that tropic country 
was silently spreading her beautiful mantle over 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


65 


the land, when a lonely figure was seen approach- 
ing the temple. He was of handsome manly form, 
in stature apparently modeled after Apollo, pos- 
sessing the fine appearance and grace of the 
trained and educated athlete. One glance from 
those penetrating and dreamy eyes w^ould be long 
remembered. 

Approaching the door, he rapped, and was ad- 
mitted by a servant who conducted him to a wait- 
ing room. 

Soon the silken curtains were silently parted, 
and a tall slender man with a pale yet smiling face 
appeared. 

“ Peace be unto thee, Onesimus,” he said, as he 
came forward to greet his friend and pupil. 

“ And to thee also, my master,” replied One- 
simus. “ I have come for a farewell chat with 
thee before we part, for I understand that thou 
art to leave on the morrow for the Nile, on thy 
mission of weed hunting. I presume thou wilt 
converse with the mummies, study the hieroglyph- 
ics on the pyramids, and become initiated into 
all the mysteries of ancient Egypt. For myself, 
I detest all of this nonsense of ancient lore.” 

“ Thy words, Onesimus, do not do thee credit ; 
well thou knowest that if I am to remain in the 
priesthood, I must continue in the prescribed path 
of those wishing advancement. I am not content 
to sit down and say, ‘ I am near enough to the 
top.’ As long as the top is above me, I shall ever 
look up, and try to climb up.” 


66 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


“ Why dost thou insist upon misunderstanding 
me? It seems that I am always doing or saying 
the wrong thing. I meant not to offend thee, my 
friend. Forgive me if I have hurt thy feelings. 

“ Well I know the spirit that dominates me. I 
have stayed here and have been a good little school 
boy until I can endure it no longer. I want to 
live and see the world, its pleasures and its excite- 
ments. I shall take my departure soon after thine 
own.” 

Adeil crossed the room and sat down by One- 
simus. 

‘‘ My friend, there is something I would tell 
thee. The very walls here have ears,” he said in 
an undertone. “ It is remarkable how these old 
priests have a faculty of learning almost our in- 
nermost thoughts, and did they but suspect mine, 
I would immediately be consigned to a dungeon on 
some pretext or other. The night is clear and 
fine. Come, let us take a short walk so that none 
may by chance hear what I would tell thee.” 

Arm in arm they left the room and passed out 
of the temple into the beautiful, calm, summer 
night. 

As they strolled through the temple grounds 
Adeil watched closely to assure himself that no 
one was near to spy upon them before they sat 
down to converse. 

For a time the quiet of the evening was broken 
only by the gentle rustle of the leaves of the 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 67 

stately palms as they were stirred by the night 
breeze. At last Adeil broke the silence : 

“ Onesimus, thou knowest that I was educated 
for the priesthood, and in following such a calling 
thou knowest also that one cannot marry. I pre- 
sume thou hast learned during our intimate ac- 
quaintance that I love one of the sweetest maidens 
on earth. I have been sorely troubled whether I 
should give up the priesthood or not, since this 
love for her grows in my heart. I shall in my 
solitude choose which path I shall take. 

“ I have one favor I would ask of thee. Thou 
knowest Jonathan, that crafty old money lender. 
He hath loaned considerable sums of money to 
Peter, Mary’s father, and I have, from some re- 
marks of his and Mary’s, concluded that he will 
cause considerable trouble in case the money is 
not paid when due. When that is, I have been 
unable to ascertain. I would feel eternally obli- 
gated to thee, if during the balance of thy stay 
thou wouldst visit Mary occasionally, and if aught 
seems amiss, dispatch my trusted servant Tero at 
once to me. He will know the route I expect to 
take, and would easily find me. I will leave him 
for this purpose.” 

Onesimus arose, grasped his friend’s hand, and 
said: 

“ By the gods, if that old miser attempts any 
of his tricks upon the girl I will throttle him.” 

“ Not so fast, Onesimus. I would have thee 


68 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


only watch Peter, and if anything happens to 
arouse thy suspicions, communicate with me be- 
fore taking any steps.” 

“ As thou wilt, Adeil. And now we had best 
return, for I know thou wilt have a great many 
things to attend to before thy departure.” 

“ Yes, Onesimus, there are so many things await- 
ing my attention that I doubt much if I shall seek 
my bed to-night. And now, farewell, dear friend, 
for I shall be on my journey before thy lazy eyes 
shall open on the morrow.” 

“ Farewell, Adeil, and may the gods attend thee 
on thy j ourney and help thee to find the ‘ weeds ’ 
that shall bring honor and reward to thee, and may 
they dwell with and protect thy loved one during 
thy sojourn amongst the mummies.” 

“ Farewell.” 


CHAPTER II 


Adeil walked quickly to the temple, reaching it 
just as the evening songs were dying away. 

He hurried to his apartments and set about 
making his final preparations. 

Onesimus strolled through the now almost de- 
serted streets and down to that part of the city 
in which were located the taverns. The various 
musicians, dancers and conjurers, who in the even- 
ing displayed their skill, had all left the scenes, 
and none remained but a few drunken men lying 
around, and others who from their drinking seemed 
anxious to join their comrades in their drunken 
sleep. 

Onesimus occasionally visited the taverns to 
watch the dancers and jugglers and listen to the 
music. 

There were a great many gamblers and women 
usually present, trying to entice any one who would 
to enter their games and pleasures. These people, 
however, did not attract one of his refined taste, 
even though he enjoyed the pastime of watching 
the dancing and listening to the music. That 
which could be had by any and all for the asking 
possessed no charm for him. 

The moon which had, in the early evening, shone 
69 


70 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


with all the glory of the noonday sun, had set, and 
darkness covered the city. A weird silence lay 
there, and upon the plains and valleys below, which 
a short time before had been teeming with life. 

Onesimus now turned toward his lodging place, 
which was near the temple and was soon lost in 
slumber. 

The morning was far advanced ere Onesimus 
awoke. He hastily dressed and prepared for the 
morning meal, for he was eager to put into action a 
plan by which he thought he could best comply 
with his promise to Adeil. 

Tero, Adeil’s most faithful slave, was now quar- 
tered at his new master’s house. As soon as One- 
simus had prepared for the street he called Tero to 
him. 

“ Tero, thy master left thee with me, so that if 
I should discover anything needing his presence, I 
would have a trusted one to bear the news to him 
which I might wish to send. He hath given thee a 
map outlining his intended journey, so that in case 
thou shouldst have need to go to him at any time 
thou wilt know exactly how to find him. Dost 
thou understand ? ” 

“ I understand all of my master’s plans,” Tero 
replied. 

“ Well then, Tero, listen well to mine. I shall 
make a visit to a crafty old money lender, and if 
my plans carry, thou wilt be left with him, and 
mark thee, thou art to note everything he does and 
says, and above all, thou must, on some pretext or 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


71 


other, go with him wherever he goes, so that in case 
he should visit Peter thou mayst know all that 
transpires and all their plans. Dost thou under- 
stand.? ” 

“ Yes, I understand, and will obey,” replied 
Tero. 

“ Very good ! ” said Onesimus. ‘‘ Go thou now, 
and bring a chariot and driver.” 

Tero disappeared, and in a very short time the 
chariot was at the door. 

Onesimus entered and directed the driver to take 
him to Jonathan, the money lender. 

Arriving at his place Onesimus alighted, and 
crossing the flowery court, he knocked at a portal 
framed by a pair of huge pilasters, which towered 
upward and as pillars formed two of the collonade 
for the roof. 

A slave admitted him to the guest room, which 
was very luxuriously furnished, as the palace was 
one of the finest in all Baalbec. The silken cur- 
tains were silently parted and Jonathan appeared 
in the doorway. He was a man of about fifty 
years, slightly under the usual height, wrinkled, 
and with dark piercing eyes. He walked with a 
swagger and was quite bent. His lips were thin 
and his expression cold and hard. His whole ap- 
pearance was about as repulsive as one could well 
imagine. 

“ I have not the honor of thy acquaintance,” he 
said, breaking the silence in which each had taken 
a mental estimate of the other. 


72 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


“ I am Onesimus, a student of the school of the 
priesthood,” was the reply. “ My master Adeil 
left with me his body servant, Tero, while he is ab- 
sent on his tour of research. 

“ I at the time intended to remain in Baalbec, 
but now I have changed my plans and shall depart 
for Rome. I have been looking for some one with 
whom I could leave Tero, and I thought of thee. 
Thou wilt find him capable and willing, and 
shouldst thou care for a servant to attend to thy 
personal wants thou wilt find in him one experi- 
enced in such matters. Then, too, should Adeil 
not return, thou wilt be the gainer by a handsome 
amount, as he is a valuable slave on account of 
his learning and willingness to serve.” 

The eyes of the money lender seemed to grow 
brighter as Onesimus talked, and some pleasant 
thought seemed to be passing through his mind. 

“ Yes, I shall be pleased to' be of service to my 
young friend Adeil,” said Jonathan. I have 
ever admired him, and hope that he may have a 
pleasant journey.” 

While he was speaking these pleasant words he 
was wishing in his heart that the vultures might 
feed on the carcass of Adeil ere he had a chance to 
return. 

Onesimus stepped to the door and motioned 
Tero, who was waiting outside, to enter. 

‘‘ Tero, thou wilt remain here with Jonathan 
until the return of thy master. Obey him in all 
things, and while thou art with him consider him 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


73 


as thy master. Adeil left thee in my care until 
his return, but as I must soon go to Rome, I will 
leave thee with this man.” 

Onesimus then bade farewell to Jonathan, and 
entering his chariot was soon back in his lodgings. 


CHAPTER III 


A number of uneventful days had passed for 
Onesimus since he visited Jonathan. 

Having laid his plans to leave the city, he was 
as restless as a caged lion, while he waited for the 
development of the plans which he knew that Jona- 
than would put into motion, believing that Adeil 
and his friend were both absent. 

A full moon was shining over the city. The de- 
lightful and refreshing coolness which had suc- 
ceeded the intense heat of the summer day had 
tempted the inhabitants out into the air. A gen- 
tle breeze had come up, and nearly every housetop 
was a scene of joyous merrymaking. 

Onesimus had just returned from his stroll 
through one of the many delightful groves of 
palms and other tropical trees. As he entered he 
found Tero awaiting him. 

“ Well, Tero, what news bringest thou from the 
enemy.? ” 

“ I fear that what I will tell thee will cause my 
dear master much pain,” replied Tero. 

“Well, out with it, you rascal; why keep me 
waiting.? Minutes may be worth years to thy 
master.” 

“ The second day after thy visit,” Tero re- 
74 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


75 


plied, ‘‘Jonathan called me to him. I assisted 
him to dress for a visit. He employed unusual 
care. He was nervous and irritable, and I could 
hardly do anything to please him. I ordered his 
chariot and together we drove to Peter’s house. 
After giving the chariot into the keeping of serv- 
ants, I concealed myself behind the curtains of the 
doorway leading into the room in which Jonathan 
and Peter were conversing. I reached my hiding 
place just in time to hear Jonathan inquire of 
Mary’s health and whereabouts. Peter was sullen 
and did not seem inclined to talk. 

“ ‘ Peter,’ said Jonathan, ‘ as I have been mak- 
ing a number of large loans it becomes necessary 
to insist upon a settlement of all overdue accounts. 
I will therefore have to ask thee to arrange to meet 
thy notes without further delay.’ 

“ Peter had risen and was pacing nervously 
back and forth. Finally he confronted the money 
lender, and said: 

“ ‘ Thou knowest from our last conversation 
that it is utterly impossible for me to pay thee now, 
and furthermore it is unjust of you to ask for it 
at this time.’ 

“ ‘ Thou knowest the law and its consequences 
when notes are not paid,’ Jonathan replied. 

“ ‘ Dost thou intend, Jonathan, to resort to law 
in the collection of these notes ? ’ 

“ ‘ Thou hast my idea exactly. Thou seest I 
need the money, in fact must have it, and that at 
once.’ 


76 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


‘‘ Peter resumed his pacing back and forth the 
length of the room, apparently in a deep study, 
looking for some avenue of escape. He soon faced 
Jonathan again, and said: 

“ ‘ I can see no way to pay thee at this time, or 
even in a short time, and thou knowest well that I 
have no cattle or lands, nothing that I can convert 
into money, so I do not see why thou insisteth that 
it must be paid now.’ 

“ ‘ Thy mind, Peter, is dull to-day ; thou must 
have slept late this morning. Come, sit down; I 
have a plan that will put thee out of debt, and with 
my influence thou wilt be in a position to get on 
nicely and be independent in thy old age.’ 

“ Peter looked as though he doubted J onathan, 
and hesitatingly took a seat facing him. 

“ Both remained silent for some minutes, as 
though each desired the other to proceed with the 
conversation. Finally Jonathan broke the silence. 

“ ‘ Peter,’ he said, somewhat nervously, and 
slowly, as though uncertain whether to continue 
or not. ‘ Peter, thou knowest well that the re- 
ports of my wealth are not hearsay. I have lands 
and cattle in great number; I have a great num- 
ber of merchant ships running out of Tyre, carry- 
ing the products of the Eastern empires to the 
markets of the world; I have banks and business 
houses, and the finest palace in all Baalbec, but I 
have no one to share it with me. I have no one to 
help me spend and enjoy this wealth. For some 
time I have been watching thy daughter Mary, 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


77 


and it would please me very much to have her share 
these things with me. Pledge her to me and I will 
cancel thy notes and make thee overseer of my es- 
tates. What sayest thou, Peter.? ’ 

“ Peter remained silent for a time, as though 
lost in thought, then his brows contracted and a 
hard look came over his face; the muscles of his 
mouth twitched, and he seemed to be striving to 
control the anger it was very plain to be seen he 
was wrestling with. At last he jumped to his feet, 
strode a few times up and down the length of the 
room, then facing Jonathan, he said: 

‘‘ ‘ Jonathan, I have done many of thy dirty 
deeds for the favor of thy loans, but this is going 
too far ; dost thou think that I will sell my daugh- 
ter for gold, and that, too, to an unprincipled old 
villain of thy type.? Dost thou — ’ 

“ ‘ Not so fast, Peter ; thy words were best un- 
said. Of course thou mayst do as thou please, 
and so shall 1. Therefore, at this time I demand 
payment of the amount due me, and that must be 
done by the noon hour, as I start for Tyre immedi- 
ately after that time.’ 

“ ‘ Well thou knowest, Jonathan, that I cannot 
raise that amount so soon,’ Peter replied in a half 
pleading way. 

“‘That concerns me not,’ said Jonathan. ‘I 
need my money and if it is not forthcoming at the 
hour I named I shall ask the court, which is now 
in session, for redress. Thou hadst better tell thy 
inabilities and troubles to them. Since thou hast 


78 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


no concern over my happiness and desires, why 
should I have over thine ? ’ 

“ Speaking thus, Jonathan arose and prepared 
to depart. 

“ ‘ Stop, Jonathan. Thou wilt surely not de- 
liver me to the court. Thou wilt not be so cruel. 
Think of Mary left alone with none to care for her.’ 

“ With a harsh laugh Jonathan turned to leave 
the room. 

“ ‘ Thou hast made thy bed, and now thou canst 
lie upon it,’ he replied. ‘ I care not for thy trou- 
ble, since thou carest not for my happiness. The 
hour is late, so I will bid thee good day.’ 

“ As Jonathan hastily left the room, Peter stood 
as one transfixed, staring at the open door and the 
retreating figure. Then he broke out into the 
most terrible blasphemies. He cursed the gods 
for his ill luck; he cursed the old banker for his 
audacity in wanting to take his beautiful daughter 
for his mistress, and for his cruelty in not giving 
more time on the notes. Finally he rushed out of 
the house like one possessed. 

“ ‘ Stop, Jonathan ! ’ he cried, just as the for- 
mer was driving off. ‘ Thou hast placed me in a 
terrible position,’ he cried, as Jonathan turned to 
come back. ‘ I cannot, and I know that Mary 
would not have me appear before the court. That 
would mean the dungeon and torture. Yet, I do 
not see how I can consign her to a life that will 
ever be repulsive to her.’ 

‘‘ ‘ Leave that to me,’ interrupted Jonathan. 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


79 


“ ‘ Delay thy visit to Tyre, Jonathan. Give me 
until to-morrow to think it over; it is all so terri- 
ble and new.’ 

“ ‘ Be it according to thy wish,’ Jonathan re- 
plied. ‘ But mark thee well ; I shall return at this 
hour on the morrow and shall expect a decisive an- 
swer. Should it be a negative one, thy freedom 
will be short lived.’ 

“ With this he made a sign to the driver, and 
they were off with the speed of the wind. 

“ Peter turned like one dazed and walked back 
to the house.” 

“ Thou didst well in hastening to me with the 
news,” Onesimus replied, as Tero ceased speaking. 
“ Prepare for instant departure. Thou must go 
at once with the news to thy master, Adeil.” 

“ I am ready for departure,” said Tero. 

“ Here, take this purse. Procure a little food 
for thy journey and start at once.” 

Almost before Onesimus ceased speaking, Tero 
had vanished. 


CHAPTER IV 


Peter’s soul was filled with conflicting emotions. 
How could he consign Mary to such a life, and 
that, too, for gold. What! sell his own daughter.? 
No! Never! 

“ I will not,” he cried ; then the thought of those 
unpaid notes, and the consequences resulting from 
their nonpayment should the banker do as he 
threatened, overwhelmed him. 

“ Can I face the court and be condemned to the 
dungeon and ta torture, when an avenue of escape 
is at hand.? ” 

Life and freedom were sweet to him. The more 
he thought of the terrible result of noncompliance 
with Jonathan’s wish, the more angry he became 
until finally he lost control of himself, and again 
he cursed the gods for his ill luck, and the banker 
for his devilish plan. 

He was so absorbed in his thoughts and denun- 
ciations that he did not notice that some one had 
entered. 

“ Why, what is the trouble, father.? ” Mary said, 
coming up to him. 

Peter turned and looked at his daughter. Not 
as a father would look, but as one who beholds re- 
80 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


81 


lief from suffering, escape from terrible torture of 
mind and body. 

“ Mary,” her father said, “ I am so glad thou 
hast come; sit down, I have something of impor- 
tance to say. Well thou knowest that I am heav- 
ily indebted to Jonathan, the money lender. He 
has made a demand for the money, which, as thou 
art aware, I cannot pay. He came to me this 
morning and says he will cancel our indebtedness, 
as well as provide handsomely for me in the future, 
if thou wilt marry him. If thou wdlt comply thou 
wilt taste all the pleasures of the rich. Purple 
and fine linen shall be thine, not to speak of the 
fine jewels. Thou wilt have servant maidens and 
all the happiness and pleasures that great wealth 
can command. Thou wilt be the envied of all thy 
friends.” 

“ Father,” said Mary, very calmly, “ dost thou 
think this would be a fair exchange for one’s hap- 
piness. And peace of mind and soul.? To thus be 
compelled to give up one’s love of Christ and, above 
all, one’s purity.? Dost thou think I shall sell my- 
self as a harlot for gold.? No, never, father, not 
even for thy happiness. Thou knowest that I love 
thee, but thou must also remember that I also love 
my beloved Savior and respect myself.” 

“ What sayest thou .? ” he asked angrily. 
“ Dost thou tell me that thou wilt not.? Wilt thou 
openly defy thy father and condemn him to the 
dungeon, torture and death.? ” 

Then Peter’s anger became uncontrollable, and 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


approaching his daughter he caught her by the 
arm and roughly shook her, as he was wont to do 
when she was a little child. 

“ By the ffods, thou shalt ! Dost thou under- 
stand.? ” 

Wrenching herself loose from his rough grasp, 
she said in a low voice : 

“ For shame, father. What would my mother 
think of thee could she look down upon this day. 
Did she raise me tenderly and plant the seed which 
later grew into love for Christ, only that in the 
end I should become a chattel, to sell myself, to 
become mistress to an old profligate and no better 
than a harlot.? ” 

“ I want to hear no more of this, thou fool ! ” 
her father cried, as he strode across the room. 
“ Thou shalt not put me away from Jonathan’s 
favor, and I will hand thee over to him before an- 
other noon hour has passed. He will teach thee.” 

Mary was fast losing her self control, knowing 
that should her father insist upon carrying out 
his devilish plan she would have a hard time to 
evade it. 

“ Father,” she said, ‘‘ this is all so sudden and 
so different from all that I had thought of and 
planned for the future, that it is unfair of thee to 
expect an answer so soon. Give me a little time, 
a few days to think it over. Go to Jonathan, and 
tell him it is my wish and surely he will grant it.” 

“ That is a good girl,” her father replied, with 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


83 


a sigh. “ I knew thou wouldst not condemn thy 
old father to such a fate.” 

“ Go, father,” she said, taking no notice of what 
he was saying, “ go at once to Jonathan and see 
if he will grant my request.” 


CHAPTER V 


The afternoon sun was caressing the earth with 
a lingering farewell before going to rest. A gen- 
tle breeze flitted through the palm leaves, while the 
trees themselves swayed gently to and fro. 

Upon the roof of his palace Jonathan had an 
arrangement unlike the common dwelling. The 
main part of the palace was built very massively 
to support the great weight above. Here he had 
a genuine roof garden. Palms, flowers and vines 
were arranged and tended by a master hand. 

He was sitting under a group of palms, enjoy- 
ing his meal, when Peter was announced. 

“ Conduct him hither,” commanded Jonathan. 

Soon Peter stood before him, all smiles, appar- 
ently having forgotten his daughter’s sorrow at 
thus saving himself. 

The unrelenting and sternly commanding look 
had gone from Jonathan’s brow, and the flush of 
the eager expectant man gave a sparkle to his eyes 
which Peter noted with pleasure. 

“ Jonathan,” said Peter, “ I have had a time 
with that girl. At first she declared that she posi- 
tively would not comply with thy request, but after 
I had argued at some length with her, she began to 
see the folly of refusing, and wisely consented to 
84 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


85 


consider it, provided you give her a few days to 
think it over. You see she could not bear to sit 
idly by and see her old father in the toils of the 
law. Then, too, there is nothing else for her to 
do. 

“ I believe that if thou wilt give her a little time, 
and not act in a way that will cause her to think 
thou wert trying to force matters, she will soon 
welcome thee and fulfill thy desires.” 

“ Thou hast taken a wise course, Peter. Re- 
turn now to Mary and say to her for me that it is 
with pleasure that I accede to her* wishes in this 
matter, and that her wishes in the future shall dic- 
tate my life. Remember also, thou hast my word 
and thou shalt prosper in proportion as I succeed 
in my desires in this matter; in fact, thy future is 
in my hands.” 

. As Jonathan ceased speaking he gave Peter a 
look that told plainer than words what he might 
expect should Mary fail him. 

“ May the gods reward and prosper thee, Jona- 
than,” replied Peter, as he turned to leave. 

“ Peter ! ” said Jonathan, “ hast thou not con- 
sidered that I might wish to call on Mary? Thou 
wilt therefore say to her that it will give me pleas- 
ure to call on the day after the morrow.” 

“ I will give her thy message,” Peter answered, 
as he bowed and descended the stairway. 

Peter returned to his home in a happy frame of 
mind, and after relating what Jonathan had said 
he went out, leaving Mary alone. 


86 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


Mary had a guilty feeling over having deceived 
her father, giving him the impression that she 
might comply with Jonathan’s desires. She ex- 
cused herself, however, with the thought that there 
was nothing else to do, and that she was justified 
in so doing, for in this course she saw her only 
means of escape. Tero must have learned of his 
fiendish desires, and surely would find a way to 
communicate with Adeil, and she believed that if he 
knew the truth he would hasten home and find some 
means to save her from such an awful fate. But 
for this hope, she would have openly and very de- 
cidedly opposed her father, for she could never 
tolerate for a moment the thoughts of such a life. 

Mary’s mother having died when she was a lit- 
tle child, she had led a quiet and uneventful life 
which she measured by the few incidents and emo- 
tions that had come into hers. Her soul had been 
brought into existence, it seemed to her, when she 
came to know and to love the Nazarene. Her 
heart had been touched to the core when Adeil had 
come into her life, opening new springs of emotion 
and giving her visions of the future when she might 
be in a home of her own. 


CHAPTER VI 


Tero hastened to do as he had been told. He 
went first to the market, where he procured suffi- 
cient provisions to last him for three days, and 
then started out to follow the route he knew his 
master Adeil had taken. 

Tero was hardy and had made many long jour- 
neys for his master, carrying messages here and 
there. This fitness, together with his love for his 
master, insured the message reaching Adeil at the 
earliest possible moment. When his pace began 
to lag he was spurred on by the thoughts of the 
peril of the one beloved of his master. With him 
also was the thought of his kind and generous 
master’s sorrow should he be too late with his 
message for Adeil to reach Baalbec before the 
banker should have carried out his designs. 

By the time the sun was in the mid heavens Tero 
was descending a lovely valley, watered by a tiny 
stream. Here he stopped to eat his lunch and re- 
fresh himself. The heat by this time was intense, 
but this was ignored, and after a very short rest 
he was again on the trail, with no apparent de- 
crease in the pace he had set, which was a swift 
and hard one for such a day. 

Tero had followed the stream but a short dis- 
87 


88 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


tance before he came upon the signs of a recent 
camp, where he judged his master had spent the 
night before. The hours passed slowly for Tero 
as he continued his tiresome journey throughout 
the hot sultry afternoon, which would have been 
next to impossible for any one except one of his 
birth and training. 

He did not stop for the evening meal, as he 
believed that he would come up with his master 
before the night would bring him to a halt. The 
twilight was just beginning to make the traveling 
difficult for him, when, in the distance, Tero saw 
a tiny light. Feeling certain that this was the 
camp of his master, he hurried on and soon strode 
into the light of the camp fire and saluted his as- 
tonished master. 

“ What bringest thou here at this time, Tero ? ” 
inquired Adeil hastily, although he knew before 
Tero spoke what the answer would be. 

Tero related in a few words what had tran- 
spired, and dropped to the ground almost ex- 
hausted. 

“ I suspected something of this nature would 
happen, but did not expect them to move so soon,” 
Adeil said, talking to himself. “ Here, Tero, thou 
must be hungry and thirsty. Refresh thyself with 
this wine,” said Adeil, as he poured out a cup full 
of the sparkling liquid and handed it to Tero. 
“ Drink this while I get thee a bite to eat.” 

Adeil was soon busy preparing the best meal his 
camp afforded, which Tero ate with great relish. 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


89 


after which he lay down and was soon sound asleep. 

Adeil paced back and forth and around the 
camp, working himself almost into a frenzy think- 
ing of what might happen to Mary should he not 
return in time to save her from the cruel designs 
of Jonathan and her father. He felt as though 
her life was now in his keeping, and he was anxious 
to get back to the city and consult Onesimus as 
to the best means of getting Mary out of their 
clutches. 

After what seemed an age of waiting, Tero 
awoke. He said as he arose : 

“ The moon is coming up ; had we better not 
start on the return.'^ ” 

‘‘ Hast thou rested sufficiently ? ” asked Adeil. 

“ I feel much refreshed, and am ready to start 
as soon as thou art ready.” 

Taking such provisions as they would need on 
the return, they started on their tiresome march. 
The moon soon came up and made the traveling 
easier for them than it would be in the day time. 
They traveled all night, stopping just long enough 
to eat a bite, until the gray dawn of the morning, 
when they sat down by a stream for a lunch and a 
few hours’ rest. 

As the sun climbed higher and higher, Adeil 
could feel his strength going and began to slacken 
the pace, for he was not used to such exertion. 

It was near the noon hour when in the distance 
they caught sight of the temples of Baalbec. 
Time seemed to pass more slowly to Adeil after 


90 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


he came within sight of the city, and it was with a 
feeling of great relief that he entered the gates a 
little later, and hastened to the lodgings of One- 
simus. 


CHAPTER VII 


Onesimus had been anxiously waiting for the re- 
turn of Adeil and Tero since the hour of the lat- 
ter’s departure. 

The banker had called upon him the day the 
slave had left him, to see if he had returned to 
Onesimus. 

Jonathan was somewhat wrought up over the 
slave’s absence, fearing that he had run away. 
Onesimus assured him that the slave very likely had 
run away but that there was no cause for worry 
since no blame could be attached to him, as Adeil 
knew not of Tero’s having been left with him ; that 
only he himself could be blamed; whereupon the 
banker left seemingly satisfied. 

Onesimus did not go out at all the following day, 
for he believed the wanderers would return soon, 
and he wished to see them at the earliest moment 
possible. Undoubtedly there would be cause for 
prompt action if the wily old banker’s schemes 
were to be thwarted. 

Not long after the noonday meal two tired and 
dusty travelers arrived and entered unannounced. 

Onesimus sprang forward, grasped his teacher’s 
hand, and led him to a couch, where Adeil sank 
exhausted. 


91 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 




“What news hast thou, Onesimus, for me?” 
Adeil asked. 

“ None other than that I sent thee,” Onesimus 
replied. “ I thought best to wait thy return 
and consult with thee before taking action.” 

“ Onesimus, I believe the first thing to do is to 
go to Peter and ask him for his daughter,” said 
Adeil. 

“ Thou art wise in many things, Adeil,” One- 
simus replied, “ but in intrigue and scheming thou 
art lacking. No, if thou wilt leave all to me all 
will in the end come out to thy satisfaction. If 
thou and Tero wilt go and bathe, we will have 
refreshments served, and I will tell thee of my 
plans.” 

Adeil admitted his inability to cope with the 
situation and hastened to do as Onesimus had sug- 
gested. 

After he had been refreshed by a bath and a 
hearty meal he felt so much rested that he was his 
former self and ready for the fray. 

“ What are thy plans now, Onesimus ? ” he said. 

“ If thou wouldst save Mary, Adeil, I anticipate 
some trouble for thyself. How canst thou save 
her except thou leavest Baalbec? And how canst 
thou leave with her except as man and wife ? This 
will necessitate thy leaving the priesthood and thou 
wilt thus incur their enmity, which may cause great 
trouble. I believe the first thing to do is for me 
to call on Mary and arrange for immediate flight. 
Thou canst go to Damascus at once and leave her 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


93 


there with friends. Then, if necessary, thou canst 
return to arrange any of thy affairs that may need 
thy attention, but thy stay must be of short dura- 
tion, for thou wilt surely come to grief by tarrying 
long here.” 

“ There is much wisdom in all thou hast said, 
Onesimus,” replied Adeil. “ While I agree with 
thee on the whole, yet there are parts of thy plan 
which will be very difficult to carry out. Yes, 
Onesimus, go and see Mary at once and arrange 
for our flight at such a time as best suits her. I 
will be ready, but it will be best to go at night. 
We must keep our flight a secret as long as pos- 
sible, for when the priesthood learn of it, it will 
fare hard with me. I must return for a short 
time, as there are a few matters that will require my 
attention. Go now, Onesimus, and learn Mary’s 
wish, tell her to prepare as speedily as possible, or 
it may be too late.” 

It was mid afternoon when the chariot of One- 
simus drew up at the portals of Peter’s house. 
Onesimus approached with some misgiving, fearing 
that Peter might be at home. A private interview 
with Mary would, in that event, be difficult to man- 
age. 

His fears, however, were of short duration, as he 
found upon entering that Peter had gone to Jona- 
than’s shortly after noon. 

Onesimus found Mary in a very unhappy frame 
of mind. She was curled up on a couch, where she 
had wept till the creamy linen over her small face 


94 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


was wet with her unrestrained tears. Her face 
was hot and swollen from weeping, and her throat 
ached under the strain of her sobbing. 

“ Mary 1 why these tears ? ” Onesimus said, as 
he approached the couch upon which she lay. 

“ Cause enough ! ” she retorted, shortly. 
“ Jonathan comes for me in the morning. Why, 
oh why, does Adeil not come and help me ! ” 

Then she fell to weeping again wildly. 

“ That is what brings me now,” Onesimus be- 
gan. 

Mary sprang to her feet in a tremor of excite- 
ment at the thought of possible escape from such 
a terrible situation. 

“ Mary, I sent Tero after Adeil,” continued 
Onesimus, “ and as soon as he returned, which was 
only a few hours ago, I hurried to thee to arrange 
for flight, as that is the only safe plan. Before he 
left he was uncertain whether to give up his love 
and remain in the priesthood, or to give up that 
for which he has spent so many years in prepara- 
tion for his life’s work. It was a hard thing for 
him to do, and this fact must show to thee how 
great is his love for thee. 

“ Since thy father wishes thee to marry the 
banker thou canst not legally become betrothed 
to Adeil, for thou art yet under paternal authority. 
There is then only one thing to be done, and that 
is to leave the country this night, and as you love 
each other forego the ceremonious marriage with 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


95 


feasts and sacrifices. When thou reachest Damas- 
cus thou will immediately find a minister of thy 
faith and he made man and wife. While this may 
not meet with thy entire approval, it is the only 
thing that I can see to do.” 

“ As thou sayest, Onesimus, it is the only escape 
left me. Make such arrangements with Adeil as 
suits him, and I will be ready.” 

“ Very well,” Onesimus replied, ‘‘ be thou ready 
as the moon dips behind yonder temple, which will 
be in early evening. There will then be deep 
shadows, making it easier to escape, if by any 
chance thou art discovered. It will very soon 
afterwards be too dark for any one to recognize 
you when on the road. Wait for the coming of 
Adeil in the corner of the temple garden nearest 
the Damascus gate. He will be there promptly 
with two asses. And now, farewell, and may the 
gods give thee and Adeil all peace and happiness.” 

She looked up to him with tear-dimmed eyes, but 
did not attempt to thank him. 

“ I understand thee, little maid,” Onesimus said 
in answer to her gaze. “ Thy heart is too full of 
recent trouble and sorrow, and of this new prospect 
of the fulfillment of thy heart’s desire. Thou 
canst thank me at some future time.” 

Onesimus clasped her hand, kissed it, and was 
gone. 

“ By the gods,” he muttered, as he strode down 
the path, “ her beauty would turn my head were it 


96 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


other than Adeil who is her lover. In that event 
he would have a merry time of it getting her to 
Damascus.” 

Entering his chariot, Onesimus was soon whirl- 
ing down the broad avenue leading to the temple, 
just back of which stood the building in which the 
temple boarders lived, and here Onesimus had his 
quarters. 

This avenue was one of the most beautiful drive- 
ways in Baalbec. 

Public officials, dignitaries, and wealthy citi- 
zens, when out for a drive or on errands, were sure 
to be seen before returning home speeding down 
this lovely and popular thoroughfare. 

The avenue was bordered by stately palms and 
other tropical trees. Magnificent and well-kept 
gardens were laid out around and in front of splen- 
did mansions and public buildings of imposing 
grandeur. 

The avenue led to and ended at the entrance to 
the temple gardens, which were very extensive. 
They were well kept and filled with tropical flowers 
and rare plants. There were two fountains, one 
on either side of the walk leading to the court of 
the wonderful temple of Baal. 

Beneath this were extensive excavations used 
for various purposes. One part was used for a 
prison. Another part for the temple treasure 
chamber. 

These magnificent temples were the envy and 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


97 


wonder of past kingdoms and dynasties, and will so 
continue for generations yet to come. 

Arriving at his lodgings, Onesimus left the 
chariot for Tero to take to the stables. He en- 
tered, and was soon in earnest consultation with 
Adeil. He explained his plans, which met with 
AdeiPs approval. 

“ I will now call Tero and send him to procure 
two asses for thee,” said Onesimus. 

Tero soon entered and inquired his master’s 
pleasure. 

“ Tero,” said Onesimus, who had now assumed 
the role of master of Tero and director of Adeil’s 
future plans, “ take this purse and go thou into 
the market place and secure two young, fresh asses ; 
they must be good travelers. Woe be unto thee, 
and well may the gods pity thee if thou should 
make a mistake, for the safety of thy master, as 
well as the life and happiness of his beloved Mary, 
may depend upon the quality of thy purchases.” 

“ Never fear, master,” replied Tero. “ Well 
thou knowest my judgment equals thine own, else 
thou wouldst not send me on this mission, and 
should my judgment fail, thine own would also 
have failed. Never fear, however. Tero makes 
no such bungling mistakes.” 

Tero hurried to do as he was bidden, for the sun 
was low and there was yet much to be done before 
nightfall. 

Onesimus ordered an unusually sumptuous meal. 


98 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


for this was to be the last evening together for some 
time, and perhaps they might never meet again. 

Neither, however, ate with much relish and there 
was a period of silence, as both were oppressed with 
the parting that was soon to come, and the serious- 
ness of the task that was before them. 

At last Adeil broke the silence. 

“ Onesimus,” he said, “ there will be a storm 
when my actions are fully known to the priesthood, 
and they may question thee concerning me.” 

“ Never fear,” Onesimus replied. “ I am not 
‘ my master’s keeper ’ ; neither am I the sort of a 
fellow that will be a fountainhead of knowledge for 
those sneaking priests. They are taking entirely 
too active a part in the management of civic af- 
fairs of late to suit me,” he retorted with some 
spirit. 

“ I shall take Mary to Damascus to-night, and 
leave her with friends. Then I shall return here 
to-morrow night,” said Adeil, “ and perhaps they 
will not know that I have been there at all. They 
cannot then connect me with Mary’s flight. I will 
stay here a day or so, then I will be ready to leave 
for good. Returning to Damascus, I will get 
Mary and depart for Egypt, where we will be free 
from fear of the power of the priesthood and Jona- 
than’s evil schemes. Perhaps we will go to Alexan- 
dria, for I have friends there.” 

Having finished their meal, they went to Adeil’s 
sleeping room, where he secured in a bundle such 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 99 

of his effects as he desired to take with him at this 
time. 

This was no more than finished when Tero an- 
nounced that he had secured two unusually fine 
asses of a trader. They were fresh and in good 
shape, and swift travelers. 

It now lacked but a short time of the hour when 
the moon would be at a point which would indicate 
to Mary that Adeil awaited her in the garden. 


CHAPTER VIII 


Mary was in an unpleasant frame of mind after 
Onesimus left her. She dearly loved her father. 
He was the only relative she had to love. Her 
mother had died during her early childhood, and 
having neither brother or sister she had none but 
her father to turn to. He was of a cold and unre- 
sponsive disposition and his actions would repel 
rather than attract. He was hard, cruel and sel- 
fish, yet in his way Mary knew that he loved her. 
He was badly involved in debt as a result of 
gambling, and had borrowed money of Jonathan 
the banker to pay these debts, and so had un- 
knowingly placed himself completely at the mercy 
of this unscrupulous man. 

Mary was, in spite of all her faults and short- 
comings, a dutiful girl, and now to leave her father 
without telling him good-by hurt her sensitive na- 
ture. However, she dared not tell him farewell, 
for then he would know and prevent her leaving. 

Her whole being cried out in revolt at a life such 
as he was trying to force upon her. This she 
would not consent to even for her father. Her 
life and purity were as dear to her as his freedom 
was to him, and she considered that she was not 
called upon to make such an unholy sacrifice to 
cancel the gambling debts of a selfish father. 

100 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


101 


“ No ! I never will,” she cried, as she began to 
lose her temper. “ He has no right to propose 
such a horrible thing to me.” 

After giving vent to her feelings she felt better, 
and set about preparing the evening meal. Hav- 
ing completed her task she sat down on the door- 
step to await her father’s return. 

She had not long to wait, for Peter was soon seen 
coming down the path. Approaching, he said: 

“ Why these clouds upon thy brow ? Art thou 
not happy.? Carest thou not,” he continued, “ for 
riches, power and greatness? The envy of nearly 
every lady in the land ? To live in lavish splendor, 
trailing silken robes, jewels, and all else that the 
heart may crave? All these things and more canst 
thou have, and thou wilt have won them fairly — ” 
“ Art thou blind? ” she interrupted, springing to 
her feet. “ Dost thou not see that I have gone to 
the limit of human endurance, just to satisfy thy 
base and unfatherly desires ? One thing thou may- 
est as well understand now as later, should provi- 
dence not interfere and thwart that beast’s unnat- 
ural passion, he may have purchased me in a way, 
but first he will turn over to thee thy notes, then 
thou canst not hold duty to thee over my head 
longer. And, mark thee well, Jonathan will have 
paid dearly for his bargain.” 

“What meanest thou, vixen? Art thou plan- 
ning some devilish scheme of murder or the like? ” 
“ Thou hadst best not get angry now, father,” 
she replied calmly, “ for I hold the upper hand. I 


102 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


meant only this; should providence, as I said, not 
interfere with his plans and desires, and thine also, 
then he will have purchased my presence for the 
time being only. He shall never possess me. My 
purity is as dear to me, and dearer, than thy life is 
to thee,” she ended, emphatically. 

“ Take heed, Mary, and guard thy tongue,” 
Peter responded roughly. He had been drinking 
and was getting into an ugly passion. “ Thou art 
mine and I shall do with thee as pleases me best; 
dost thou think that I shall meekly be led away to a 
foul prison cell, and mayhap to my death, as 
penalty for a debt I cannot pay, while but for thy 
stubbornness those notes would be canceled.? Oh! 
but my hands tingle to shake thee into a realiza- 
tion of thy duty to thy father.” 

“ Thou shalt see,” she answered. 

“ If thou should turn Jonathan against us,” her 
father shouted, “ these hands will handle thee in a 
way that will break thy proud rebellious spirit, as 
well as bend thy body in meek submission.” 

Her cheeks instantly paled and the blood seemed 
to freeze in her whole body, leaving her cold and 
pale as a marble statue. She faced her father, and 
in the liquid depths of those dark dilating eyes he 
saw the lurking danger, and recoiled as by a sudden 
blow, as he saw there in an instantaneous glance 
the hatred his act would invoke, and as a result the 
ill will of Jonathan hanging like a pall over him. 

“ Thou shouldst well know that thou wilt never 
rule me by force, father, and I court not Jona- 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


103 


than’s pleasure nor thy own. I fear thee not, nor 
all thy silly threats. What carest thou what I do, 
so long as I secure for thee the return of those ac- 
cursed notes, the only evidence of thy debt, and 
Jonathan’s only hold on thee.?^ ” 

Her father smothered his wrath, for too often 
had he seen Mary’s white, calm face, when thor- 
oughly aroused, not to realize the truth of her 
words. He quieted himself until there should be 
greater cause for his using force. 

“ But force I will use,” he muttered to himself. 
“ I want not only the debt canceled, but I must have 
that old miser’s favor. He may die suddenly,” he 
continued to himself, with a wicked smile, “ and 
then — ” 


CHAPTER IX 


The sun had set fiery red, tinging the western 
sky with a beautiful glow that gradually faded into 
a dusky haze. 

Overhead floated delicately tinged clouds, here 
and there varying in beautiful harmony. As the 
day drifted off to the West, and the evening wore 
on, the people began to desert the temple groves 
and gardens. The crowds that had gathered 
around the temple grounds enjoying the coolness 
of its groves and shadowed lanes, had left that part 
of the city and congregated around the inns and 
places of amusement. 

Mary sat at her father’s door, her eyes still 
turned dreamily towards the spot where the sun 
had sunk to rest. 

Her hands supported her chin in a listless man- 
ner. The loose flowing robe falling from her shoul- 
ders revealed a skin of unusual beauty and fair- 
ness. 

Her large dark eyes softened as she gazed into 
the deepening twilight with a melancholy longing, 
— longing for peace, love and happiness, and the 
sadness of misgiving at the coming change, and 
separation from her father. 

104 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


105 


Oh ! how much those lengthening shadows meant 
to her. Of the joys and sorrows of the future, 
which would be the greater? 

At last she sighed and arose. Entering the 
house, she went to her apartments, secured the 
small bundle which contained her only earthly pos- 
sessions, and walked out into the night. Her 
father had left and there was no one to hinder or 
question her. 

She walked smilingly towards the garden where 
she knew Adeil would be waiting. 

The moon was just drifting behind the great 
temple as she came near the comer. As she saw 
the shadow a sigh arose unconsciously, though her 
cheeks flushed and her eyes brightened as her lover 
came to meet her. 

Adeil clasped her to his breast, whispering words 
of love in her ear and covering her face with kisses. 

“ We must go quickly,” she told Adeil. “ My 
father will return soon, and as I am never out late 
he will wonder at my absence. After what took 
place just before dark, he will be sure to suspect 
that something is amiss as soon as he discovers 
my absence. He might think that I had retired, 
but we cannot risk it, so let us hurry.” 

With a glance around to assure themselves that 
no one was watching, they hastened away. 

Adeil at one time having befriended the gate 
keeper, had had no trouble to arrange with him to 
be at the gate at the time in the evening when they 
wished to start. 


106 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


Arriving at the gate, the keeper quickly opened 
it for them. 

“ Here’s for thy trouble,” said Adeil, as he gave 
the keeper a handful of coins, “ and remember, if 
thou art questioned, none have passed through.” 

It was a beautiful moonless night ; the light from 
the myriads of stars shining down upon them en- 
abled them to travel at a brisk pace with ease and 
safety. 

They soon passed the stone quarries which lay 
about a mile to the south of the city, extending 
along the base of the mountain toward the south- 
west for a considerable distance. 

As they ascended the foothills they caught a 
last glimpse of the twinkling lights of Baalbec.- 

With the solid rock and soil of the ancient 
Roman road beneath the asses’ feet, Adeil urged 
them to their fastest pace. The country differed 
as they passed on, but the road was always the 
same well-built highway of stone and soil, whether 
in the marsh, the fertile low lands, or in the hills. 

Had it been daylight, their ride over the low 
foothills of Anti-Lebanon would have been devoid 
of interest; but to make the journey at night, it 
was not only uninteresting, but dangerous and un- 
pleasant, with nothing to divert their attention but 
the distressing howl of the jackal, and an occasional 
glimpse of an inky black form as one bolder than 
the rest flitted near. 

Well up the mountain slope the road became in 
many places very narrow and dangerous. A mis- 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


107 


step by one of the animals and they would go 
rolling down the side of the mountain for hundreds 
of feet. Here Adeil permitted the asses to take 
their time and to pick their way. 

After hours of dreary riding through windy 
mountain passes and down steep and winding paths, 
they found themselves in the midst of the gardens 
and orchards surrounding Damascus. 

It was early morning when they entered the city, 
and taking a by street they were soon wending 
their way amidst numberless humble dwellings. 

“Here our journey ends for the present,” said 
Adeil, as they drew up and he dismounted before a 
dwelling overgrown with trailing vines. 

Approaching, he knocked, and the door was 
opened by a pleasant faced woman of middle life. 

Adeil informed her of his errand. 

“ Thou art welcome as long as it pleases thee to 
stay, and safety lieth here,” she said. “ Adeil,” 
she continued, turning to him, “ leave the maid in 
my care until thy future plans are arranged; but 
be thou careful, Adeil, lest by some chance her 
refuge is discovered.” 

Mary entered the house with the woman, while 
Adeil took the asses to the stable. Upon return- 
ing, he found a most welcome meal awaiting them. 

After they had eaten and talked over their plans, 
Mary and Adeil separated and each retired for a 
much needed rest. 

It was late in the afternoon when they were 
awakened, and after the evening meal Adeil said 


108 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


farewell to Mary, bidding her stay within doors 
until his return. 

“ I will return by the day after to-morrow, when 
we will be married and journey to Alexandria,” he 
told her. “ But, if by any chance I should be de- 
tained, wait thou here till I do return.” 

With a last fond embrace and a kiss, he was gone, 
speeding on his return to Baalbec. 


CHAPTER X 


At early dawn a solitary figure mounted on a 
jaded ass was toiling up the road towards Baal- 
bec. 

The chill of the night still lingered in the faint 
gray light, and the ass traveled slowly. It was 
hard for Adeil to content himself with its weary 
gait. He used his switch with vigor, but to his 
urgings the ass only shook his head, flopped his 
ears, and appeared to move slower and more laz- 
ily than before. 

“ Had I the endurance of this beast,” he mut- 
tered to himself, ‘‘ I could far outstrip him on a 
journey without half trying.” 

The sun was just rising over the bleak sand 
hills, causing the mists to melt away and vanish 
as mysteriously as had the darkness at the ap- 
proach of the dawn. 

In the distance rose in stately splendor the 
towering temples and massive walls of Baalbec. 

Coming to a vineyard, Adeil approached the 
house and arranged with the landlord to care 
for the animal until his return, which would be 
but a few days. 

He now proceeded on foot, and being but a 
short distance from the city, he was soon walking 

its familiar streets again. 

109 


110 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


Going on the most unfrequented streets, he made 
his way toward the lodgings of Onesimus. He 
had not proceeded far, however, when he noticed 
two persons who acted in a very peculiar way for 
those on any ordinary errand so early in the morn- 
ing. 

To make sure he was not being followed, he 
turned quickly to the left without looking back, 
to prevent showing them that his suspicions had 
been aroused. As soon as he had turned the cor- 
ner, he ran as fast as he could, reaching the next 
turn to the right in time to see his followers hurry 
into the side street, and not seeing him started 
on a run for the next corner. 

Adeil thereupon turned and fled as hastily as 
possible, taking the first street again to the right 
to get back to the avenue leading to his destina- 
tion. 

Across the street were the temple gardens and 
before his pursuers came into view he was lost 
to them among the flowers and shrubbery. Has- 
tening on, he soon reached the lodgings of Onesi- 
mus, wondering anxiously who his followers could 
have been. 

“ What bringest thou in such haste, Adeil ? ” 
said Onesimus, as his friend hurriedly entered. 

“ I believe,” said Adeil, “ that some of the 
priesthood saw me after my return from my un- 
completed journey, and hearing of Mary’s disap- 
pearance have connected me in some manner with 
her flight, and have been following me. I left the 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


111 


ass that I returned on at a vineyard not far from 
the city. No sooner had I entered the city gate 
than I felt certain that I was being followed, a fact 
which I proved by attempting to elude my pur- 
suers. I succeeded, but it will only be a short time 
ere they will look for me here.” 

“ But what can they want of thee, Adeil.'* ” said 
Onesimus. 

“ I know not,” answered Adeil, “ for they can 
have no positive evidence of my being interested 
in Mary’s escape. We went at an hour when it 
was quite dark, and were both disguised so we 
could not have been recognized had we been seen. 
However, it matters not, for I have no fear, and 
shall no longer try to avoid them. I only wanted 
to satisfy myself whether or not some one was 
really following me. In all probability they 
think she is in hiding here in the city and by 
watching me they hope to learn of her where- 
abouts.” 

“ I trust thou art right in thy reasoning,” said 
Onesimus, “ but I fear that they know more of 
thy actions than we think. If they do, there may 
be serious trouble ahead for thee.” 

“ I do not believe that is the case,” returned 
Adeil, rising, “ but I will go now and see to the 
matters that need my attention at the school, then 
I will be free to leave when I desire.” 


CHAPTER XI 


The high priest Abidan was sitting in the room 
which was used as a library as well as a study 
room for students of the college. It was a large 
and cool room, well lighted and pleasant. The 
lower half of the walls were wainscoted with beau- 
tiful marble, while the upper part was plastered 
and painted. The ceiling was most beautifully 
painted and decorated by master hands. Around 
the sides and in numerous alcoves were many 
shelves, upon which were kept the papyrus rolls 
and wax tablets. 

A stand upon which were jugs of fine wines 
and numerous beakers and flasks stood at one side 
of the room. There was also in the room a large 
table covered with writing material, a couch and 
several stools. 

The room was lighted with four finely wrought 
lamps. 

Abidan was attired in a robe of fine white linen, 
which reached nearly to the floor. Hanging from 
his neck was a long white apron which reached to 
a little below the knees, on the lower end of which 
was a finely embroidered cross of gold and silver. 
He also wore a necklace of very evenly matched 
and beautiful oriental pearls. He had many ene- 
112 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


113 


mies among the priesthood, but calumny seldom 
dared attack his high standing. The high priest 
looked up in anger and astonishment as Adeil en- 
tered the room unannounced. 

Slowly rising from his seat of ebony, he said: 

“ Why this intrusion? How darest thou enter 
without first obtaining permission?” 

‘‘ Such formality, thou well knowest, is not re- 
quired from the priesthood,” calmly replied Adeil. 

“ But thou art not of the priesthood,” said 
Abidan. “ Knowest thou not that thou art under 
a ban, and that thou wilt be called upon to face a 
very serious charge? ” 

“No, I knew it not,” said Adeil. “ I know not 
the charge, but whatever it be, I defy any one 
to prove me guilty of any wrong doing,” he con- 
tinued. 

“ We shall see,” said Abidan, with almost a 
sneer, as he touched a silver bell on the table at 
his side. 

Almost instantly there glided swiftly into the 
room four huge burly slaves. 

“ Conduct this man to the prison,” he said, as 
he pointed to Adeil with his bony hand. 

“ Thou surely canst not mean this, holy father,” 
said Adeil. “ I have been guilty of no wrong.” 

“ Thy actions in trying to escape this morn- 
ing prove thy guilt,” replied Abidan, and turn- 
ing he disappeared through the curtained doorway 
before Adeil could recover from his astonishment. 

Realizing there was nothing to be gained by re- 


114 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


sistance, he turned to the slaves and indicated his 
readiness to follow them. 

They conducted him down a flight of stairs and 
after numerous turnings and winding about they 
stopped before a cell door. Bezek, the jailor, 
opened the door, and Adeil involuntarily drew 
back in horror as the cold damp air rushed past 
and the dark cell was disclosed to him. 

The guards pushed him in and shut and locked 
the door. Feeling around, he found a pallet of 
straw, and on this he sat down to think over the 
situation. From his knowledge of the building he 
realized the uselessness of attempting to escape 
unaided. There was only one thing to do, and 
that was to wait, with such patience as he could 
exercise. 

After hours of pacing to and fro he again 
sought his pallet of straw and fell asleep. 


CHAPTER XII 


Adeil was aroused from his slumbers by the 
opening of the door, and he arose to find the four 
slaves, who requested him to follow them. They 
wended their way up to the rooms above, and there 
he saw that again it was early morning. 

He was conducted to a large oblong room which 
was used as a hall of justice; here, all guilty of 
any offense against the priesthood had their trial. 

Adeil went forward with misgivings, for he had 
begun to believe that some of the spies of the 
priesthood had obtained in some way knowledge 
of his recent movements, especially to his leaving 
with Mary. 

In the court room a peculiar scene was being 
enacted. Here had gathered some forty or fifty 
of the leading lights of the college. These men 
never met as a trial body except on the order of 
Abidan, the high priest, and then only when some 
offense against the priesthood had been committed. 
In their findings and decisions they never stopped 
to consider what power the laws of the land gave 
them, but proceeded to have their wishes carried 
out respecting the punishment of the offenders, 
and their right to do so was never questioned by 
the general public, if indeed the public ever knew 
of their doings. 


115 


116 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


Abidan on this occasion had summoned most 
of the elder officers and teachers of the college, 
knowing that they could be depended upon to 
carry out his every wish. He had only summoned 
a small number of the younger members, so that 
there could be no cry of partiality, but taking care 
that there should be just enough of them so that 
they would be in the minority. He knew that they 
would stand with and uphold their popular young 
leader Adeil, no matter what the charge. 

Abidan sat on an ebony chair, richly carved and 
embellished with gold and silver. Around and in 
front of him, in the form of a half circle and at- 
tired in their somber judicial robes, sat the mem- 
bers of the council or trial board. 

On a small three legged table before Abidan lay 
an outspread roll of papyrus. 

The assembly had for some moments been talk- 
ing in subdued whispers with regard to Adeil. 
They had, however, been keeping a close watch for 
the first sign from the high priest, who was su- 
preme in authority, as none cared to incur his dis- 
pleasure. 

Abidan raised his eyes from the scroll and al- 
most instantly a deep silence reigned. He lifted 
his hand as was his wont, to command silence, not 
seeming to notice that there existed already a 
silence that w^as like a tomb. 

He spoke to a richly decked page, directing him 
to have the guards bring Adeil into the presence 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 117 

of the court. The page hurried to obey Abidan’s 
command. 

In a few moments the guards entered with the 
prisoner. Adeil walked with a weary, faltering 
step. His face and manner spoke only too plainly 
of his confinement in the dark, foul dungeon, with 
its lack of ventilation. 

The prisoner was taken to a bench at the left 
and a little in front of the chief priest, in view 
of all. Just before he sat down, as he turned 
and faced the assembled council, Adeil raised his 
head, drew himself up, and cast a haughty search- 
ing glance at Ahidan, whom he believed had 
planned his downfall. 

Ahidan, though hardened of heart by years of 
unscrupulous conduct, could riot meet that pierc- 
ing gaze. Adeil then looked from one to another 
of his judges, and his glance changed from with- 
ering contempt and suspicious hatred to love and 
entreaty, as his gaze rested upon first one and then 
another. He instinctively read their decision, and 
turned and sat down. 

Nathanael was next in authority to Ahidan. 
He had risen to his present position through the 
influence of the high priest, who knew his weakness 
and used him as a tool. 

When Nathanael spoke he always expressed the 
wishes of his superior. He now arose and said : 

“ This man has grown up among us and we had 
learned to love him on account of his devotion to 


118 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


duty, his childlike frankness and his openness of 
heart ; he possessed all the qualities essential to one 
aspiring to the high and exalted position of our 
noble and beloved Abidan. We have shown him 
our appreciation of his high qualities and devotion 
to the priesthood by advancing him from time to 
time until he had risen to a position of importance 
and trust. Now, how does he show his apprecia- 
tion of our respect, love and confidence? By turn- 
ing traitor to our principles and to the traditions 
of our forefathers of the priesthood. He has de- 
filed himself and insulted and offended the gods. 
He has disregarded our laws and teachings, and, 
being guilty of such conduct, there is to my mind 
but one thing to do. 

“ His name should be stricken from the roll of 
the priestly order and he should then be dealt with 
in such a manner that his fate will ever stand as 
a warning to those who are so indiscreet as to dis- 
regard their solemn obligations and our laws.” 

“ Excellent, Nathanael,” cried several of the 
priests in an approving chorus. 

Then Silas arose and said: 

“ Let us have him thrown into the darkest dun- 
geon in the lowest part of the prison; let him be 
loaded down with chains, there to linger and die 
like the traitor he has shown himself to be. Or, 
better yet, let him be buried while yet he is alive, 
and thus may we appease the wrath of the gods 
for the actions of one of our order.” 

An old man who thus far had taken no part in 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


119 


the discussion arose and asked permission to say a 
few words. He spoke in a voice so sharp and 
shrill that it was almost a hiss. 

“ The brother who preceded me speaks of ap- 
peasing the wrath of the gods. I am surprised 
that one who has attained to his position should 
presume to appease their wrath in this manner. 
If this court deems it necessary to take some such 
action, to my mind a different course entirely 
should be pursued. One that the public will know 
of and one that will, so long as life shall last for 
him, be a warning to others who might fall as this 
man has. 

“ I would suggest that he be conducted to the 
torture chamber, and there have extracted by its 
very roots his tongue, that he may not betray any 
of the temple secrets he is in possession of. Then 
with a red hot iron I would make sightless both of 
his eyes, that he may no more look upon the face 
of her for whom he would leave and defy the whole 
priestly order, and set at naught our laws and cus- 
toms by planning for a secret marriage, and that 
too, to one promised to another. I would also 
have his ears and nose removed to more quickly 
attract the attention of every passerby, and thus 
might he wander, a living example of the abomina- 
tion of the gods, and the intolerance of the priest- 
hood for his actions — ” 

This, however, did not please Abidan, and he 
motioned for the speaker to be seated. It was 
evident that Abidan had decided what he wished 


120 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


done and that the calling of this court was only a 
mere formality. 

“ Adeil,” said Abidan, “ thou hast heard the 
charges; what sayest thou; is this true or false? ” 

“ I had considered it a pleasure that I might 
make my defense against these accusations before 
thee, believing that our friendship of the past 
would insure me a fair and impartial hearing, in 
which case I would at once be set at liberty. I 
have, however, concluded from what I have heard 
and seen that if I am to receive justice, that I 
must appeal to the governor,” Adeil replied. 

“ Thy appeal will be considered in due time,” 
said Abidan, “ but what sayest thou concerning 
these charges ? ” 

“ Nathanael and the others have said the charges 
are true,” said Adeil, “ and I would ask thee to 
prove them true, or give me my liberty.” 

As Adeil ceased speaking one of the spies who 
had followed him the morning of his return from 
Damascus, arose and said : 

“ Didst not thou return from thy mission of 
educational research that thou hadst undertaken 
in the interests of the college, and that, too, at 
the very beginning of it, just that thou mightst 
steal and carry away the daughter of one, Peter 
by name? ” 

“ I returned from my mission, but the reasons 
for so doing not being asked for, were not given. 
As to the missing girl; I again ask for some evi- 
dence that connects me with having a hand in this. 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 121 

or that part stricken from the charge,” replied 
Adeil. 

The discussion then began to favor the accused 
young priest, and Abidan again raised his hand for 
silence. Calling a page to him, he said: 

“ Request the guards to conduct the prisoner 
back to his cell.” 

Turning to Adeil, he said: 

“ The report of our findings will be given thee 
in due time.” 


CHAPTER XIII 


As soon as Adeil left the room a stormy debate 
took place. Matters were, however, soon brought 
to a climax by Silas, who arose and said : 

“ My brothers, this court was convened for the 
purpose of deciding this traitorous dog’s fate. 
The question as to his guilt you all know has been 
determined in a way leaving no room for doubt. 
I would have this defiler of our laws and estab- 
lished customs sent to the torture chamber. Let 
there be assembled all of those in any manner con- 
nected with the priesthood and the school. Let 
them be made to witness his death by slow degrees, 
that they may see and fully realize the danger con- 
fronting him who regards not our laws and cus- 
toms.” 

“ Holy father,” said Nathanael, as soon as Silas 
had resumed his seat, “ if we are to escape the out- 
pouring of the wrath and hatred of the gods, we 
must strive to uphold our laws and our principles. 
As this man stands condemned, there remains but 
one thing to do ; to pronounce sentence, and have 
it carried out at once. I would ask thee to have 
brought a pitcher and a dish of pebbles that we 
may come to a decision at once.” 

“ Thy words are well chosen,” answered Abi- 
dan, and ordered the pitcher and the pebbles. 

As soon as the page returned with them he took 
122 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


123 


them to the scribe, who, first dividing them, drew 
a red and black ring on one-half of them ; the red 
to indicate torture and black that it should end in 
death. The other half were left as they were. 

Abidan directed the page to pass the plate of 
pebbles. When this was done, he said: 

“ Let each one take two pebbles, one marked and 
one plain. As you come forward, if you believe 
Adeil has. disregarded any of our laws or customs, 
it is your duty to drop the pebble having the red 
and black rings upon it into the pitcher. If, on 
the other hand, such is not your belief, you will 
then drop into the pitcher a pebble that has no 
markings upon it, dropping the other one into the 
receptacle on the back of the table.” 

Each one went to the table, dropping into the 
pitcher the pebble indicating his choice, while the 
other was put into the other receptacle. When 
they had all returned to their seats the page 
poured the pebbles from the pitcher onto a golden 
tray and carried them to Abidan, who counted 
twenty-one marked and eight white ones. 

Abidan arose, lifting his hand to command 
silence, and turning to the scribe said: 

“ Thou wilt prepare the decree on the morrow. 
Adeil will then again be presented in the presence 
of this court to hear read his sentence. He shall 
then be conducted to the torture chamber and the 
result of your expressed opinions be meted out to 
him.” 

When he had thus spoken he left the chamber. 


CHAPTER XIV 


Aner the page, a young boy of about sixteen 
years, had long been a warm friend of AdeiPs, and 
the things he had just witnessed sorely troubled 
him. As soon as he was dismissed he went to 
Onesimus, whom he knew to be a friend of Adeil, 
to enlist his assistance in securing AdeiPs escape. 

Arriving he knocked and was soon admitted by 
a slave, who conducted him into the presence of 
Onesimus, who, somewhat startled, said: 

“ Bringest thou news of Adeil ” as he motioned 
Aner to a seat. 

“Yes; Onesimus, I have unpleasant news for 
thee. Adeil was taken before the court in secret 
session and it was decided that he should be taken 
to the torture chamber and never allowed to leave 
there alive.” 

“ By the gods,” said Onesimus, as he sprang up 
and paced back and forth, “ if they murder that 
man I will not stop until I have the heart of every 
one of the scoundrels.” 

“I have a plan, Onesimus,” said Aner, “ which 
I believe can be carried out if thou wilt lend thy 
assistance. I know Bezek the jailer very well. I 
will go down and see him, pretending I am on an 
errand for old Abidan, and engage him in conver- 
124 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


125 


sation. As I leave I will pretend to take a drink 
and offer him some. Of course he will drink his 
share and then go to sleep.” 

“ May the gods attend thee on thy errand of 
rescue,” replied Onesimus. “ And now in what 
way may I assist thee? ” 

“ There is wine and a drug to be procured. 
The wine I can secure at the temple, but the drug 
thou must obtain for me.” 

“ I will get thee a powder which thou wilt put 
into the wine,” said Onesimus, as he arose and left 
the room. Soon he returned with a small powder, 
which he gave to Aner. 

“ If thou wilt dissolve this in the wine the jailer 
wilt certainly enjoy a good night’s rest, but be 
thou careful when pretending to drink, lest thou 
should get some of the drug, and be too drowsy 
to assist Adeil.” 

“ Fear not,” answered Aner. ‘‘ I love Adeil too 
well to do aught that might work against us ; now 
I must hasten to the temple to prepare for the 
night’s work.” 

“ Hast thou counted the cost of this ? ” inquired 
Onesimus. “ Dost thou know that it will be neces- 
sary for thee to leave the country also ? ” 

“No, I had not thought of that,” answered 
Aner, reflectively, “ but it makes no difference, for 
I would assist Adeil to escape even though I 
should lose my head for it. I hope, however, that 
Adeil will take me with him, when thou hast ex- 
plained to him the necessity of my leaving.” 


126 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


“ The gods will save thee, never fear,” said 
Onesimus. “ I will wait in readiness for thee to- 
night, and until then, farewell.” 


CHAPTER XV 


Aner returned to the temple. While waiting 
upon the chief priest he learned with much pleas- 
ure that his services would not be required for the 
rest of the day. 

Securing the wine, he put into it the powder 
which Onesimus had given him, and after it was 
thoroughly dissolved he secreted it in his apart- 
ments. 

The time passed wearily for Aner, who, like all 
young people, when he had anything especially in- 
teresting to do or a journey to make, was anxious 
to be at it. 

It was not long after the shades of evening had 
begun to settle over the land, that the page, secur- 
ing his precious wine, which represented life and 
freedom for his friend, proceeded towards the 
prison wherein Adeil was confined. He was not 
long in finding the jailer, who was a large burly 
freedman, and who recognized Aner as the page 
of the high priest Abidan; therefore he did not 
question his right or purpose in being there, even 
at this hour. 

“ How tired thou must get of such a life,” said 
Aner, as he approached Bezek and seated himself 
on a bench. Taking out his bottle of wine, he 
127 


128 ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 

pretended to take a drink; smacking his lips, he 
remarked : 

“ Abidan always keeps the finest wine I ever 
tasted. Thou must be weary,” he continued, 
“ carest thou for a taste of the high priest’s 
wine.? ” 

The jailer eagerly took the proffered bottle and 
drank about half of its contents. 

“ Thou mayest have it all if thou carest for it, 
for I can get more when I return to the temple,” 
said Aner. 

Almost before he ceased speaking, the greedy 
jailer, who had rarely tasted such wine, had 
drained the last drop and handed back the empty 
bottle. 

“ Lucky art thou,” he said, “ to live where such 
wine is plenty.” 

Soon Aner had the satisfaction of seeing the 
jailer nodding and occasionally opening his eyes 
in a vain endeavor to remain awake. 

It was not long, however, ere Bezek had fallen 
over on the bench, for the present unconscious of 
all that transpired around him, insuring Adeil’s 
escape, at least from his present confinement. 
Hastily securing the jailer’s keys, Aner went to 
the cell in which he knew Adeil was confined. 
Opening the door cautiously, he entered, and by 
the dim light which he carried he perceived Adeil 
asleep upon his pallet. 

Approaching, Aner put his hand over the sleep- 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


129 


ing man’s mouth to prevent any startled exclama- 
tion upon his sudden awakening, shaking him at 
the same time with his free hand. 

Adeil soon opened his eyes and sat up. Aner 
quickly related what had occurred, and bade Adeil 
follow him. They were not long in reaching the 
stairway leading to the room above. Extinguish- 
ing his light, Aner led the way and they were soon 
in the rear of the temple. 

The moon had not yet risen, and as it was quite 
dark they were not afraid of being recognized as 
they hurried to the home of Onesimus, who was 
awaiting them. 

While they told him of Adeil’s escape and how 
nicely the j ailer had been drugged, the servant had 
prepared a lunch for Adeil and Aner, who were to 
continue their flight as soon as possible. Onesi- 
mus had explained to Adeil that Aner must flee 
with him after the part he had taken in his es- 
cape, for as soon as the jailer awoke it would all 
be known and his doom would be sealed. 

Onesimus now produced a dagger and sword for 
each, saying that they might be needed before 
they were out of harm’s way. 

‘‘ I have procured and have waiting for thee at 
the place where thou left thy ass, Adeil, two fine 
horses, for they will make the journey much more 
quickly. If perchance thy escape is discovered 
and pursuit instituted, thy capture will be difficult, 
mounted as thou wilt be.” 


130 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


After an affectionate farewell Adeil and Aner 
went out into the darkness and began their jour- 
ney. 

Onesimus had arranged for the gatekeeper to 
be on the lookout for Adeil and Aner, and he 
was waiting when they drew up at the Damascus 
gate, which he opened to let them pass through. 

As before Adeil handed him some coins, with the 
request to not remember of having seen them. 

The moon was just rising, but as they were on 
the outside of the city and the gates closed for the 
night, there was no fear for the present. 

Securing the horses, they started for Damascus 
with a feeling of great relief. 


CHAPTER XVI 


Abidan was up early, and as soon as he had 
taken his bath he ordered the morning meal 
brought to his private apartments. When he had 
eaten, Abidan sent for Aner. 

“ Aner is not to be found,” said the slave who 
had been sent on the errand, “ and his bed does 
not have the appearance of having been occupied 
last night,” he continued. 

The servant had hardly ceased speaking before 
one of the guards entered with the information 
that Adeil had escaped. 

“ Adeil escaped ! ” exclaimed Abidan, who had 
become very excited and angry at the thought of 
Adeil getting out of his power. 

“Where is Bezek?” he said, turning angrily 
on the servant bringing the information. 

“ Bezek’s whereabouts, my lord, I know not of.” 

“ If this jailer hath played the traitor, he shall 
pay for it with his head,” cried Abidan. 

Before he had ceased speaking, the luckless 
jailer entered, with his face white as death; ap- 
proaching Abidan, he threw himself on his knees 
before him. 

“ Thou art both fool and traitor,” said Abidan, 
contemptuously, “ but for thy folly and neglect 
131 


132 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


thou shalt pay dearly. One in the service of the 
priesthood who cannot control his passion for 
drink while on duty; who for a few moments of 
pleasure will betray the trust imposed upon him, 
will pay for his negligence with his life, and his 
fate will be a warning to others of a like disposi- 
tion.” 

“ Listen to me, my lord,” he begged, his voice 
scarcely audible and unsteady, while great beads 
of perspiration covered his brow. “ I could not 
prevent his escape. Aner came in the evening. 
He stopped and spoke with me for a time, when he 
took a drink from a bottle of wine and passed it to 
me. I took one swallow of the wine and that was 
the last I remembered until aroused by the guards 
sent for Adeil. I went with them to his cell and 
we found it empty, but the door was locked and 
the keys were in my girdle. How he got out, or 
if Aner assisted him, I know not. This is all I 
know,” and he ended with a moan. 

“ So Adeil is gone ; it is as I feared, and he will 
escape our punishment. What meanest thou, dog, 
to let him escape And hath Aner gone as well? ” 
Abidan asked, in a voice so full of anger that it 
was little more than a screech. 

“ Adeil hath of a certainty gone, but I could 
not help it, my lord; but of Aner, I know noth- 
ing,” Bezek replied, lifelessly. 

“ Here ! ” commanded Abidan. “ Take this 
dog to a dungeon in the torture chamber.” 

“ My lord ! have pity ! ” wailed the unhappy 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


133 


jailer. “ I could not help his going, neither had 
I a hand in his escape.” 

“ Hold thy tongue, thou whimpering traitor, 
lest thou lose it,” cried Abidan angrily. 

“ I did not do it ; I could not help it,” the un- 
happy jailer kept repeating, as he was led away 
by the guards. 


CHAPTER XVII 


The afternoon sun was caressing the earth in a 
lingering farewell before going to its rest. The 
clouds in a golden halo rested lightly in the sky. 
The glory of the day was fast fading in the haze 
of eventide. 

Onesimus was lazily wending his way toward the 
temple to say farewell to those he knew there, this 
being his last night in the most magnificent city 
of the eastern world. 

Early on the morrow he would start on his jour- 
ney to Rome. 

After saying farewell he slowly started upon 
his return. 

It was a beautiful evening. The tiny stars 
looked down and winked at him as he gazed at 
them in admiration. With no thought as to 
where he went he wandered down broad avenues 
with palm trees, past cool flowing fountains and 
fragrant flowers. 

Having aimlessly passed to the rear of the tem- 
ple, with no thought save for the beauty of the 
night and his surroundings, he found himself pass- 
ing the priests’ torture chamber ; a large octagonal 
structure, the casing of which was in alternate 
layers and broad panels of painted and carved 
brickwork. 


134 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


1S5 


Some servants stood about, while others were 
passing in and out. 

Curiosity prompted him to step inside. He had 
never seen the place, and as this was his last 
chance he would look through it now. 

Passing inside he beheld a sight that made him 
shudder. 

The walls were not finished as nicely inside as 
they were without. On many of the panels were 
hieroglyphics, accounts of the tortures of some 
of the noted prisoners. 

Opposite the door through which he entered was 
a raised platform with three chairs, on which sat 
Abidan and two of his colleagues. A number of 
his guards stood around him. On the walls hung 
instruments of war, of torture, and of the chase; 
chains with heavy balls of iron attached; a collec- 
tion of daggers upon the walls, with the terrible 
short broad-sword worn by the Romans. There 
were also suits of armor in corium and in bronze, 
with breastplates and crested helmets of brass 
and iron ; shields of brass, iron and bull’s hide. 

At one side stood a table on which was a collec- 
tion of knives, pincers and a quantity of dry strips 
of cedar wood. These last were used to make 
small thin splinters, which were inserted under the 
victim’s finger nails, a means of torture as pain- 
ful as anything practiced here. 

Here stood a narrow bed, to which victims were 
strapped by the shoulders and upper part of the 
body. Other straps fastened to the ankles passed 


136 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


over a roller, which was slowly turned by means 
of a crank until the legs were stretched almost 
to the breaking point. They were left thus for 
hours at a time, when their tormentors were trying 
to secure some information from them. This was 
one of the most fiendish devices in the place. 

A large number of attendants were collected in 
various parts of the building, all apparently await- 
ing some command from Abidan. 

At that moment Abidan raised his hand, and an 
attendant opened one of the doors leading from 
the prison, which was connected with the chamber. 
Soon three guards came leading Bezek, the poor 
jailer, who was to be put to torture in an endeavor 
to force him to reveal the manner of escape and 
place of hiding of Adeil, which, alas, he could not 
tell, for he knew it not, being asleep from the 
effects of the drug administered to him by Aner 
the page. 

The guards advanced to a position in front of 
and near Abidan, and halted. 

“ I will give thee one more chance to tell me the 
truth about AdeiPs escape,” said the high priest. 

The unhappy jailer fell on his knees, raising his 
manacled hands in supplication, and said: 

“ My lord, I have told thee all that I know, and 
more I cannot tell.” 

Abidan interrupted any further discussion by 
ordering the guards to turn the jailer over to 
those having charge of the torture chamber. 
Onesimus turned faint at the thought of what 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


137 


awaited this unfortunate being. Thinking he had 
seen enough of the torture chamber, he made his 
way through those assembled near the door, and 
was just passing out when his ears caught the 
dull scraping sound of a body being dragged 
across the floor. 

An uncontrollable desire to know what took 
place caused him to pause just outside of the door, 
as he leaned against the wall in an anxious expec- 
tation. The door was now closed, so Onesimus 
eagerly put his ear close to it, expecting yet 
dreading the sound he knew would soon be heard. 
The poor helpless jailer had stood in silence all 
that human nerves could stand, and then there 
burst from behind the closed doors such a series 
of agonizing screams as Onesimus had never be- 
fore heard. Now it would be a terrible screech, 
wild with despair ; next moment an awful gurgling 
cry resounded, permeating his very soul and carry- 
ing with it a realization of the terrible excruciat- 
ing pain that caused the cry. Shutting his eyes 
to blot out if possible the imaginary scene of the 
hapless jailer’s terrible suffering, and clasping his 
hands over his ears to shut out those blood cur- 
dling sounds, Onesimus stumbled down the path 
and was soon in the street in front of the 
temple. 

Here he sat down at the edge of the grove to 
watch the happy throngs that filled the streets, 
and if possible get his mind freed from thoughts of 
poor Bezek. 


138 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


How long he sat there he hardly knew, for he 
had become interested in watching the crowds, 
when suddenly he noted a commotion in the street 
a short distance from where he sat. 

Suddenly the crowd parted as though a leper 
was approaching; and there, staggering down the 
street, was an object, the image of which would 
remain stamped upon his mind for all time to come. 
Intuitively he knew it to be Bezek the jailer, re- 
leased before death should in mercy claim him, 
to carry to the people a warning to those who 
might incur the displeasure of the priests, and a 
vivid example of what might befall those who in- 
curred the anger of the priesthood, which in Baal- 
bec was more powerful than rulers and courts. 

The tottering figure stopped nearly abreast of 
where Onesimus sat, and leaning heavily upon a 
staff he carried, he raised his head and leaned for- 
ward as though he would penetrate the gathering 
gloom, perhaps in his agony forgetting that God’s 
most precious gift, sight, had been taken from 
him by the fiendish will of the priest whom he had 
unconsciously angered, in being the unintentional 
means of Adeil’s escape, and all that remained of 
those once bright eyes was blackened holes in a 
face distorted by pain and suffering. 

There were exclamations of sympathy and pity 
for him; of horror and disgust with the priestly 
rulers. 

This strong man’s frame was bent as with age ; 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 139 

his once handsome face was drawn and furrowed 
with agony. 

“ He must have committed some great sin,” re- 
marked a man standing near Onesimus. 

“ To be unable, or refuse to give any informa- 
tion they might desire, is sufficient sin in their eyes 
to warrant such punishment,” replied Onesimus. 

“ Look at his mouth ! ” the stranger cried. 
“ See the blood trickling down from his mouth.” 

“ Verily I believe the man hath lost his tongue,” 
remarked a woman standing near, as she recoiled 
in horror. 

“ By the gods,” exclaimed Onesimus, coming up 
and scanning the man’s face, “it is Bezek the jailer 
I saw in the torture chamber such a short time ago. 
When will their fiendish reign of power cease ? ” 
he continued, speaking to himself. 

The unfortunate man kept his lips closed, and 
his teeth set, in an apparent endeavor to suppress 
the uncanny sounds that he occasionally emitted 
in the way of a sob and groan. After his mouth 
became full of blood, he opened his lips, and having 
no tongue to spit it out with, he could only lean 
forward on his staff and let the blood run out, 
making him a horrible and most pitiable sight to 
behold. 

As he started on, staggering, scarcely able to 
keep from falling, the crowd instinctively parted 
and left his way clear. 

His form faded away in the distance, and was 


140 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


finally swallowed up in the darkness. The crowd 
melted away, and Onesimus was soon left alone in 
a most unpleasant frame of mind. 

“ Glad I will be when I have quitted this place,” 
he muttered, as he started for his lodgings. 


BOOK THREE 


CHAPTER I 


The sun was just peeping over the towers and 
minarets, and as yet there were not many people 
on the streets, for the city was slow to rouse from 
its slumbers. 

It was a beautiful morning for an early walk, 
and the lonely figure making its way towards the 
Heptastadium gave evidence in the way he was 
speeding along that he enjoyed it to the fullest 
extent. 

He hastened on passing through Rhacotis.^ 
Passing the Serapeum,^ he met a number who 
spoke to him. This seemed to irritate him as 
though he might have been on some mission which 
he wished to keep a secret. 

Ere long he reached the Heptastadium. The 

1 Rhacotis, a little town on the mainland opposite Pharos. 
This was subsequently incorporated as a part of Alex- 
andria in the quarter of that name. 

2 Temples of Serapis : Serapis, the Roman name of a 
deity of Egyptian origin whose worship was officially pro- 
moted under the Ptolemies, and was introduced into Greece 
and Rome. Serapis was the dead Apis honored under the 
attributes of Osiris. He was lord of the underworld, and 
identified with the Greek Hades. His worship was a com- 
bination of Egyptian and Greek cults, and was favored by 
the Ptolemies for political reasons. {Century Dictionary 
and Cyclopedia.) 


143 


144 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


bridges by this time were lowered and soon he 
found himself standing on the rocky island of 
Pharos, the haven of refuge for many a pirate and 
sea rover. 

Plaving made up his mind to enlist the support 
of the class of men which he might find at the 
water’s edge, he turned in that direction, and was 
much pleased to discover a man walking rapidly 
towards him. 

As he drew nearer to the man he paused. 
There was something strangely familiar in this 
solitary figure, all tatters, and presenting all the 
appearance of an escaped slave. Shading his 
eyes from the bright morning sun he gazed intently 
at the figure approaching, then uttered a startled 
exclamation. 

“ No ! it could not be, but if — ” 

Then he hastened forward, saying to himself : 

“ Could it be possible, and if so, why this condi- 
tion? ” 

Soon the advancing figure looked up and seeing 
him, stopped short, gazed intently at him, then 
with a cry ran forward and embraced Adeil. 
Both remained silent for a moment, then Onesimus, 
stepping back, said: 

“ The gods be praised for sending thee across 
my pathway at this time of need; but tell me, 
Adeil, what bringest thee here? ” he continued. 

“But why art thou in this state?” replied 
Adeil. “ And why here ? ” 

“ It is a long story and I will tell it to thee in 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


145 


detail at another time,” said Onesimus, as he 
seated himself on the sand. 

After giving Adeil a brief outline of the events 
which had occurred since their parting, he again 
inquired the cause of Adeil’s presence. 

“ While I was a member of the priestly order at 
Baalbec,” replied Adeil, “ I learned a great many 
things not intended to be known by the under- 
priests ; things, in fact, only supposed to be known 
by a few in the highest positions who guarded 
them jealously. 

“ One day I sat in the library studying, when 
my glance happened to fall on a dark corner of 
the room where I noticed a packet of documents 
lying upon the floor. Knowing that they did not 
belong there I picked them up and curiosity 
prompted me to examine the contents. Judge my 
surprise when I found it a detailed plan of a treas- 
ure chamber in upper Egypt. 

“ Knowing that it was unlawful for any one to 
have such a document and that no such plan was 
supposed to exist, I wondered what it was for, and 
who its owner could be. The thought of the con- 
sequences should the owner happen in and And it 
in my possession hastened my movements, and I 
was trying with nervous fingers to tie the bundle 
as hastily as possible, when looking up, to my sur- 
prise and horror I saw Abidan in the doorway 
glaring at me in a terrible manner. He advanced 
holding out his hand for the package, and I gave 
it to him. Without examining it at all he said to 


146 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


me, ‘ This may some time cause thy ruin ; know- 
est thou the consequences of making such a 
sketch?’ ‘Those papers must be familiar to 
thee,’ I said, ‘ since thou knowest what the package 
contains ere thou hast examined it. Never fear, 
however,’ I continued, ‘ thy secret is safe in my 
keeping.’ 

“ He glared at me a moment as if intending to 
speak, then turned and left the room. I knew 
that he would, if chance offered, do me harm in 
fear that I might at some time speak of the plans 
I had seen. It was this, I believe, that made him 
so determined to have me put out of the way at the 
time of my trial. 

“ The plan I saw there I have started several 
times to draw from memory, lest I forget them, but 
I would always destroy the work in fear that it 
might fall into other hands in some way. 

“ There was, however, no occasion to draw it, 
as the whole plan is indelibly stamped on my mem- 
ory. Shutting my eyes I can see every line and 
figure as it appeared upon the papyrus.” 

“ But what has all this to do with thy visit 
here ? ” demanded Onesimus. 

“ It has a great deal to do with it, as thou wilt 
learn if thou givest me time to relate,” replied 
Adeil. “ Since leaving Baalbec I have had varied 
experiences. I have traveled much and thought- 
lessly parted with nearly all of my savings, so that 
now I have come to think that some of that 
hoarded wealth of the priests would be very con- 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


147 


venient to have. The object of my visit here is to 
enlist the services of a few men who can be de- 
pended upon in a hazardous undertaking.” 

“ How many dost thou require ? ” said Onesi- 
mus. 

“ Two or three would, I believe, be enough,” an- 
swered Adeil, ‘‘ for I want no more than neces- 
sary. The less there are to know of this, the bet- 
ter it might be for us in the future.” 

“ I have it, Adeil,” exclaimed Onesimus. 
“ Would not four be enough.^ If so, thou and thy 
old servant and Tero and myself would make a 
good and faithful band.” 

“ Good,” said Adeil, ‘‘ that will be enough and 
a far more agreeable company than I expected to 
find.” 

“ It will be necessary, Adeil, for me to have a 
new outfit of clothing before I can leave this place. 
Here, take this,” said Onesimus, handing Adeil a 
purse. “ Return to Alexandria and purchase 
clothing suitable to my former station in life. 
When I left the galley ship the owners were so 
thoughtless as to neglect to pay me for my serv- 
ices, and I helped myself to a generous part of 
the captain’s gold. I perceive by thy looks that 
thou dost not understand me, but all will be made 
clear to thee soon. Now hasten, and secure the 
clothing for me, and note also if Philemon’s gal- 
ley has yet left port, for I dare not leave this is- 
land until they have gone.” 

I will do as thou hast requested,” said Adeil, 


148 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


‘‘ but tell me first how thou earnest here in this 
condition.” 

“ Sit thee down and I will relate my experiences 
since we last parted,” said Onesimus. 

In as few words as possible he related all that 
had occurred. 

“ Thou hast truly had a terrible experience, but 
fortune will soon smile upon thee,” said Adeil, as 
he arose and started for Alexandria. 

He scarcely knew how he reached the city. He 
seemed to walk on air, so light did his spirits seem. 
He had found his old friend and pupil, and in him 
one also who could be trusted and relied upon dur- 
ing the coming adventurous undertaking, which 
he knew to be full of dangers, and if their mission 
was discovered would mean death to them all. 

Before he realized it he was back at his home 
relating to Mary the remarkable happenings of 
the morning. He also told her of his plans for the 
future. After partaking of their noonday meal, 
Adeil turned his steps towards the shops in quest 
of raiment for his friend. 

Selecting clothing suitable for a Roman of rank, 
he returned home, leaving to Onesimus the selection 
of such arms as he might wish. 

He had just reached home when a messenger 
from the Governor arrived, telling him the Gover- 
nor wished to see him. 

As soon as he could do so he hurried to the 
palace, wondering what might be wished of him. 
He had no sooner made his appearnce than a serv- 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


149 


ant entered and ushered him into a beautiful room, 
asking him to wait there. Soon the Governor ap- 
peared. 

“ I have sent for thee, Adeil,” the Governor be- 
gan, “ as I know thee to be a man of great learn- 
ing and experience, and one of the most profound 
geographers in all Egypt. Nero, as thou no 
doubt knowest, is not satisfied with Juba’s asser- 
tion that the Nile rises in northern Mauritania, 
then passes underground for several days’ journey 
to a lake in Mauritania Cassariensis, again going 
underground for twenty days’ journey before its 
reappearance, and has ordered an exploration of 
the river to find the actual source of this abun- 
dance of water, teeming with the gifts of the gods, 
creating wealth and happiness, and drawing from 
the sandy desert a bountiful supply of rich yellow 
grain and an abundance of verdure and budding 
flowers. 

“ Nero has sent me notice of this intended ex- 
ploration, and has asked me to detail as a member 
of the exploring party any one whom I know has 
special learning that would be of service in obtain- 
ing the best results in the final reports and maps. 

“ I know of no one better qualified to do credit 
to my appointment than thyself, and if thou wilt 
accept the place it will be a pleasure for me to ap- 
point thee.” 

“ I am a subject of the Emperor,” said Adeil, 
rising and bowing low. “ My learning, as well as 
my life, are at his service. I realize the responsi- 


150 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


bility attached to the service, yet since it is thy 
wish that I go, I will accept the appointment even 
though it necessitates the giving up of personal 
plans which were of great importance to me. I 
shall endeavor to show my appreciation of the con- 
fidence thou hast in me by the earnest discharge of 
the duties connected with the undertaking. Noth- 
ing but sickness or death shall prevent a full com- 
pliance of all that I know to be the Emperor’s 
wishes.” 

“ It is a pleasure to me,” said the Governor, 
“ to note thy interpretation of the duties and 
responsibilities of the position. I will send thy 
commission to thee to-night. Prepare to start as 
soon as possible. The party Nero has sent has 
already arrived, and will proceed up the river in a 
few days.” 

“ I will not detain them,” replied Adeil. “ Will 
I be permitted to take my attendants with me? ” 
he continued. “ If so, there is one that I would 
much like to have with me. He is a young man 
of high education and has seen service under a 
number of different standards. I also have two 
servants I would like to take.” 

“ Thou mayest use thy pleasure as to the at- 
tendants and assistants that thou shalt have,” re- 
plied the Governor. 

Adeil left the Governor’s palace in a happy 
frame of mind; it seemed to him as though the 
gods themselves were to assist him in getting his 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


151 


desired revenge on the priestly order. It mat- 
tered not whether it was the wealth of the great 
treasure house of Egypt or the temples at Baal- 
bec that he helped himself from. It was the 
priestly order that had disgraced him, and it was 
the priestly order that was amassing this great 
wealth at various places. He had been instructed 
in many of their secrets, yet there were a great 
many things that he did not understand. He did 
not know how closely the order at Baalbec was 
connected with that of Egypt, yet they must be 
intimately connected, else what was Abidan, the 
high priest, doing with the plan of this great store- 
house of Egypt Was it possible that there ex- 
isted a plan among some of the high officials of the 
temple at Baalbec to plunder these treasure cham- 
bers of upper Egypt 

Adeil hurried home to tell Mary of the change 
in his plans, and make preparations that he might 
not delay the party when it was ready to leave. 
As soon as he had partaken of a lunch he has- 
tened to take the clothing to Onesimus, for he in- 
tended to take him as one of his assistants. 

Adeil was soon on the road towards Pharos, 
carrying with him, securely wrapped, the cloth- 
ing he had procured. How different this trip to 
the island was from the last one. Hurrying on 
with feverish haste, he was soon in sight of the 
island, and there again he saw that familiar fig- 
ure on the beach, in all probability as impatient 


152 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


for his return as he was himself to get there. 
Soon Onesimus saw him and hastened to meet him 
with outstretched arms. 

“ At last I am back,” said Adeil as he came up. 
“ Let us go to some secluded place where we may 
talk without fear of interruption. I have impor- 
tant news for thee, or perhaps thou had best ex- 
change thy clothes at once and we can talk after- 
wards. Take this bundle of clothing and hurry to 
the inn and make the change, and return as soon 
as possible. I will await thee here.” 

Onesimus took the bundle and went to the inn, 
while Adeil sat down on the beach to await his re- 
turn. Onesimus was gone but a very short time, 
when he returned clothed as a Roman of wealth. 

“ Now thou art looking more like thyself,” said 
Adeil, as Onesimus came and sat down. 

“ While these clothes may make me appear like 
my old self, it will be a long time before I shall 
feel like the Onesimus of old, my friend,” was the 
answer. 

“ Nero has ordered an exploration of the Nile, 
and has left the appointment of part of the mem- 
bers of the expedition to the Governor. This 
morning, just as I had returned from the shops 
with thy clothing, a messenger from the Governor 
brought me word that he wished to see me. I hur- 
ried thither as soon as possible, not knowing what 
might be wanted of me, and to my surprise he re- 
quested me to go as a member of the party, and 
gave me permission to take thee with me as one 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


153 


of my assistants. Aner and Tero are both with 
me now and I shall take them as our servants, 
which will be as many as we will want for the 
undertaking at the temples. It seemed at first 
thought that misfortune was still following me, 
for I hated to give up the trip after the hidden 
treasure, but perhaps it will all be for the best, 
as it never is amiss to have favored or served Nero 
and the Governor.” 

“We should pour out a libation to the gods 
for this good fortune,” said Onesimus. “We will 
join this expedition and do our best towards mak- 
ing it possible for a good report to be sent to 
Nero, and thereby win his favor, which may be 
turned to good account. And didst learn of 
Philemon’s galley ? ” he continued, “ for I dare not 
leave this place until it has sailed.” 

“ The galley sailed this morning early, so thou 
canst as well return with me to Alexandria. Is 
there anything at the inn that thou shouldst take 
with thee.f^ ” 

“No, I have nothing, so we may as well go 
now,” said Onesimus. 

They both arose and started back to Alexan- 
dria. How different was this from his coming to 
the island. Now it seemed that freedom and for- 
tune were before him, and surely everything would 
come out all right in the end. When they arrived 
at Adeil’s home they began preparations for de- 
parture on the following morning, as Adeil did not 
wish to keep the party waiting. 


154 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


Onesimus retired early and the thoughts of the 
morrow kept him awake until a late hour, when he 
finally fell asleep. The next morning he was much 
refreshed from his night’s rest, which, though 
broken, was far better than that to which he had 
been accustomed aboard the galley. Arising, he 
hastily dressed, and by this time found that break- 
fast was waiting for him. 

Early in the forenoon Adeil bade Mary good- 
by, and they started for the harbor, where Nero’s 
galley awaited them. 

It was with some uneasiness that Onesimus ap- 
proached the harbor, even though he had been as- 
sured by his best friends that Philemon’s ship had 
really sailed. Even the sight of the various gal- 
leys peacefully riding at anchor brought a pallor 
to his cheek, as he remembered the terrible ex- 
periences through which he had passed aboard a 
similar ship, and while he knew that he was safe 
from harm, he hurried Adeil along at a very rapid 
pace, being anxious to leave the city, for the sight 
of the place of his escape caused conflicting emo- 
tions that would not down. 

Ere long they arrived at the landing and were 
escorted aboard the ship, and introduced to the 
different members of the company. 

After the formalities of meeting were over, 
Onesimus sought that side of the ship farthest 
from the quay, for while he knew that he was as 
safe there as though the ship were out upon the 
sea, yet when he looked down the quay he could 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


155 


not but imagine that every person he saw look- 
ing that way recognized him, and there was the 
possibility that some one of them might have seen 
him leave the ship, and being there, could not help 
but know that one of the slaves had escaped from 
the galley of Philemon. 

“ Bah, what a fool I am,” he exclaimed to him- 
self, as he paced nervously up and down the deck. 
“ I am free, free, and no man shall ever claim me 
as a slave again while I live, and I shall yet live 
to bring vengeance upon the head of that traitor. 
General Sohemus, who condemned me to such a 
devilish fate. And did I not win for him a good 
share of his wealth.? Yes, he shall pay for all I 
have suffered.” 

Onesimus was here interrupted in his soliloquy 
by the approach of Adeil. 

The sailors now began to make preparations for 
sailing, and ere long the ship was headed for Bal- 
bitine, where several others were to join the com- 
pany. It was late that night when they arrived, 
and Adeil and Onesimus, being very weary, retired 
early. 

When Onesimus appeared on deck the next 
morning they were approaching the ancient city 
of Sais, where they were to stop for a short time. 

Onesimus did not leave the ship while they re- 
mained. 

Every one was in holiday attire, the river was 
full of large and small craft, coming from every 
direction, as the great annual festival in honor 


156 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


of the god Neith, the divinity of the place, was to 
be celebrated at this time. Adeil was annoyed at 
the delay, for they had to wait until evening for 
one of the priestly order who was, at this time, in- 
terested in the festivities. 

Early the next morning the galley started up 
the river again. 

After a monotonous journey they drew near to 
Memphis. Soon after the morning meal was over 
Adeil summoned his servant Aner, and instructed 
him to go for the surgeon who was a member of 
the party. Soon the surgeon appeared and in- 
quired as to who was ailing. Adeil explained that 
he had been suffering all of the latter portion of 
the night with severe pains. The surgeon exam- 
ined him, administered some powders, and left him, 
saying that he would see him again soon. Adeil 
did not get out of his hammock during the fore- 
noon, and it was not until shortly before midday 
that the surgeon came to see him again. Adeil 
was by this time feeling a great deal worse. The 
surgeon seemed perplexed and uneasy, and advised 
Adeil that it would not be wise to continue the 
j ourney . 

Adeil at once sent Tero to call the leader of the 
expedition, and informed him of his condition. 

After the case was discussed, it was decided that 
Adeil should stop over at Cairo or Memphis un- 
til his condition was improved, when he was to 
follow should his illness not be too prolonged. 

The hot sultry afternoon was drawing to a 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


157 


close, and the sun was just sinking behind the low- 
lying hills in the west. The land to the south 
and west looked like an immense valley, clothed 
with all the beauty of tropical verdure, the gift 
of the Nile. 

Onesimus stood at the side of the boat and gazed 
at the magnificent scene unfolding to his view. 
Far to the south this wondrously green valley of 
Egypt was to be seen, and in the background, 
and also in the radiant west, like a row of golden 
mounds, stood the triangular pyramids, glimmer- 
ing in the glowing light of the setting sun. To 
the east of the pyramids, in a dim blue haze, could 
be seen the temples of Memphis, the whole mak- 
ing a view of wondrous beauty. 

Onesimus stood wrapt in thought and spell- 
bound, as this panoramic view, so marvelously fas- 
cinating, passed before him. 

The beauty of the setting sun, now fast passing 
away, only told of the glories of the budding 
night. 

The sun had dropped from sight behind the 
western hills, and the stars were twinkling in the 
sky above them as they came opposite Memphis. 
The ship approached the landing slowly, as it was 
by this time quite dark, and would so continue un- 
til the moon should rise an hour or so later. 

The surgeon came again to see Adeil, and find- 
ing him still suffering, he had a litter prepared 
on which to take him ashore. As soon as the boat 
was made fast, Adeil was tenderly carried ashore. 


158 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


followed by Onesimus and their servants, Tero 
and Aner. They proceeded at once to an inn, and 
when Adeil had been cared for, those from the ship 
returned. 

When Onesimus arose the next morning he went 
at once to the river to see if the ship had yet 
sailed. He was just in time to see it disappear 
around a bend of the river. This beautiful river, 
in the very name of which there is a fascination, 
gives joy and happiness, prosperity and life to 
millions of human beings. Were it not for the 
fertilizing deposits left by this river, Egypt would 
be as barren as the great desert, destitute of all 
vegetation. 

Onesimus gazed in rapt admiration upon the 
beautiful scene before him. 

A light breeze had sprung up, and while he stood 
enjoying the beauty of the morning, the sun rose 
in all its eastern splendor. 


CHAPTER II 


Adeil’s illness proved not so serious as was at 
first feared, and on the second day he was so far 
recovered that they began preparations for carry- 
ing out their original plan of visiting the treasure 
chambers of Upper Egypt, as it would now be im- 
possible to overtake the ship and carry out the 
Governor’s wishes. 

It was early in the morning when Onesimus 
went in search of camels for the journey, while 
Adeil busied himself procuring the necessary 
provisions ; with arms they were well supplied. 

Onesimus was favored in his mission and in a 
short time returned with a lot of fine beasts. 

Adeil, with the help of their servants, had 
everything else necessary for the journey await- 
ing them and soon their little caravan was ready 
for the march. 

Leaving Memphis they turned west, and in a 
short time arrived at Sakkara.^ 

1 Sakkara is one of the interesting places of Egypt 
which has commanded the attention of scientists and those 
interested in research. Here are the oldest pyramids in 
Egypt, probably dating to the Fourth Pharo of the First 
dynasty. Unlike the others, it is not oriented towards the 
cardinal points. Sakkara is situated due west from the 
ancient Memphis, in Egypt. Near it are many important 
159 


160 ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 

From Sakkara they directed their steps due 
south. 

It was sunset when the travelers arrived at the 
southern apex of the valley, and here they camped 
for the night. 

The next morning they were up and started by 
daybreak, for there were prospects of a very hot 
day and they wanted to reach Arsinoe as soon as 
possible. Arriving at Arsinoe they proceeded to 
an inn, where they rested until the next day. 


remains of antiquity. The Apis mausoleum, or Serapeum, 
as it is often called (though the Serapeum, the temple 
which stood above the subterranean mausoleum, has two 
exits), a famous sanctuary of the ancient Egyptian cult, 
was discovered by Mariette in 1860, when the great 
avenue of sphinxes which preceded the Serapeum was ex- 
cavated. Access to the Apis tombs is by a sloping sub- 
terranean passage. They consist of three groups, begin- 
ning in the 18th dynasty (about 1700 b.c.). The first 
groups are the least interesting, and are now again in- 
accessible. The third group, extending from Psammetichus 
I of the 26th dynasty (about 650 b.c.) to about 50 b.c., 
consists of a series of burial-chambers opening from huge 
galleries about 1,200 feet in extent. Every Apis was 
buried in a granite sarcophagus about 13 feet long, 7% feet 
wide and 11 feet high. 


CHAPTER III 


It was yet early when Onesimus was awakened 
the next morning by Adeil, to make ready for de- 
parture on the most perilous part of their jour- 
ney. 

Adeil and Onesimus had carefully wrapped their 
weapons into a bundle, and this was carried by 
their servants, Tero and Aner. There were very 
few of the inhabitants up when they left the inn. 

“ I have settled with the keeper of the inn, and 
told him that it might be late when we returned, 
and in that event we would not disturb them but 
take our camels and proceed on our j oumey up the 
Nile,” said Adeil. 

“ Thou art surely of the right sort to undertake 
such a mission as this,” answered Onesimus, ‘‘ for 
of course we will time our arrival so that none 
will know when we leave, nor which way we go. 
So thy remark will throw any possible pursuers 
off our track and keep them hunting for us in the 
south while we are speeding north.” 

Before they came near the Labyrinth, Adeil and 
Onesimus concealed their weapons in their cloth- 
ing, as in all probability they would need them be- 
fore they had quitted the place. They requested 

Aner and Tero to remain there until their return. 

161 


16 a 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


Then they continued their way to what had in 
times past been the great treasure house of Egypt, 
and which still contained a vast amount of treas- 
ure. 

Onesimus was much impressed with the vast di- 
mensions of the place, it being the first time he 
had seen this wonderful building. 

‘‘For what purpose was this structure built.? ” 
asked Onesimus. 

“ The twelve kings who ruled over Egypt at 
that period,” said Adeil, “ wished to leave behind 
them a monument worthy of their fame. They 
joined together in the building of this magnificent 
place, and that is the reason why there are twelve 
courts and twelve gates, making one for each 
king.” 

The building was of immense proportions, oc- 
cupying an area one thousand yards long by six 
hundred yards in width, and was built in the form 
of a great horseshoe, being one of the greatest 
wonders of Egypt. The temples of Samos and 
Ephesus may justly claim admiration, and the 
Pyramids may individually be compared to many 
of the magnificent structures erected by the 
Greeks ; but even these are inferior to the Laby- 
rinth. It is composed of twelve courts, all of 
which are covered; their entrances are opposite 
each other, six to the north and six to the south; 
one wall enclosing the whole. The apartments 
were of two kinds ; there being fifteen hundred 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 16S 

above the ground and another fifteen hundred sub- 
terranean chambers, in all three thousand. 

Some of these underground chambers were used 
as tombs for the kings who constructed the Laby- 
rinths, and for revered animals, — and above all, 
the sacred crocodiles. 

At the gate Adeil and Onesimus were met by a 
company of priests and a small detachment of 
shaven-headed soldiers. Adeil, being acquainted 
with one of the priests, told him that it was their 
wish to visit the place and asked permission to 
be shown through. This priest, who seemed to be 
in authority, instructed another one of the order 
to take four soldiers with them, and show Adeil 
and Onesimus through this marvelous piece of 
Egyptian architecture. 

They entered the building through a large 
court, passing into an inner and darkened room. 
Each soldier procured a torch, though only one 
of them was lighted. 

The priest moved his hands around on one side 
of the wall, when suddenly a door opened reveal- 
ing a narrow passage way, which they followed 
and which descended at a sharp angle. They had 
proceeded hut a short distance when to the right 
a large place in the wall seemed to anticipate their 
coming, and silently opened to let them pass 
through, and then as silently closed behind them. 
They were now in a large room which contained 
many doors. 


164 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


Onesimus, try as hard as he might, could not 
keep his bearings, and soon was completely turned 
around, and all he knew was that they occasion- 
ally went upwards, and then again they would de- 
scend a sharp incline, or go down a flight of steps. 
It seemed to Onesimus that they must have been 
going from one room to another, through great 
chambers, sometimes connected by imposing hall- 
ways; then some of the rooms would have ap- 
parently no outlet, when in some mysterious way 
there would appear a way out, sometimes through 
very small, narrow passage ways. 

At last after what, perhaps, was not so long a 
time as it seemed to Onesimus, they arrived in a 
large, nearly round room. Here the priest 
stopped in the center of the room, and said : 

“ We are now about to enter the Chamber.” 

He commanded the guards to light all the re- 
maining torches. When all was ready he made 
a few apparently senseless motions with his hands, 
when suddenly and noiselessly the guards vanished 
as completely as if they had been swallowed up 
by the earth. Adeil did not seem to mind the 
gloomy surroundings and mysterious happenings. 
With Onesimus, however, it was different. He 
was not a coward, by any means; he had stood 
on the field of battle against almost insurmount- 
able difficulties and overwhelming odds. He had 
met and conquered the best and bravest in the 
Olympic games. In the chase after the lion and 
other dangerous wild animals, none had displayed 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


165 


more skill and bravery than he ; yet when he stood 
here and realized how utterly helpless, and ap- 
parently dependent upon these unscrupulous 
priests, he was, it caused unpleasant feelings to 
travel up and down his spine. Suppose the priest 
should vanish also, as the guards had done, and 
leave them there alone, then what — what could 
Adeil, with all his knowledge of priestly mysteries 
and plans of this most wonderful place, do? 
They would wander around in the darkness, and 
in the end die of starvation, and, in all probability, 
become raving maniacs. 

He felt an impulse to draw his dagger and 
plunge it into the mummified looking old priest 
who stood in front of him, — but what would they 
do then? 

Onesimus was roused from his unpleasant mus- 
ings by a door opening silently, as all the rest had 
done, and behold: there through the door he saw 
a brilliantly lighted room, into which they passed. 
The main room was square and of great size, the 
ceiling supported by a number of round columns, 
which were covered with hieroglyphics, which were 
the records of the gifts of various kings. The 
treasure was not so extensive as in former times, 
as at one period there were valuables of every con- 
ceivable kind deposited here. Each king seemed 
to try to lay up a greater amount than his prede- 
cessor had done, and in this way there came to 
be an enormous amount of valuables stored here. 
The priest did not say how or what caused the 


166 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


removal of a great part of the treasure. At last, 
when they were about to leave the place, the 
priest made a few motions with his hand, and when 
Onesimus looked around to see what was to happen 
as the result (for he had come to watch every 
move the priest made since so many mysterious 
things had taken place here), to his amazement 
found that the guards had again reappeared, 
how or when he could not tell, but they were now 
in sight. 

The priest told them that he would show them 
the best and most valuable of all that was left of 
the once marvelous wealth here stored and accumu- 
lated for past ages. He approached one of the 
columns, which looked as though it was intended 
for a support for the ceiling above, and as he 
drew near, the side of the column raised, appar- 
ently passing through the ceiling, and revealed 
the most remarkable sight they had yet witnessed. 
A lighted torch was burning, and it puzzled One- 
simus a great deal to know how the thing was 
lighted, and he ventured to ask the priest. 

“ Nothing is impossible to the gods,” he replied, 
and again turned to Adeil, who was gazing in 
wonder at the magnificent collection of great 
strands of beautifully matched pearls, diamonds, 
emeralds, rubies and other precious stones. They 
were now alone, except for the priest, the guards 
being no longer in sight. Onesimus was nervously 
looking for an oppoidunity to accomplish the ob- 
ject of their journey. He picked up a beautiful 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


167 


pearl and was admiring it and asking questions 
about it, when he accidentally dropped it and it 
rolled back of them. The priest turned to look 
for it, as did Onesimus, when Adeil, with a swift 
motion, seized a sack containing a large number 
of valuable gems and, hastily concealing it in his 
clothing, turned to look for the lost pearl. 
Onesimus at last found it and handed it to the 
priest, who returned it to its place. 

“ We will go back as soon as thou hast re- 
turned to the gods the sack of jewels which I do 
not see in its place,” said the priest, addressing 
Adeil. 

“ What ! Dost thou accuse me of stealing 
from the gods ? ” hissed Adeil through his tightly 
drawn lips. “ Thou wilt retract that accusation, 
or I will choke thy very life out,” he continued, as 
he made a lunge for the priest. 

“ Not so fast,” said the priest, as he avoided 
Adeil. “ Dost thou see that heap of dried bones 
and rotting clothing over there ” and he pointed 
his bony hand towards a heap at one side of the 
pillar. “ That is all that remains of one as rash 
as thou art about to become. Remember, first, 
that thou art under the power of the gods, and in 
a twinkling thy life might be snuffed out, or thou 
left to roam amid these darkened rooms, and in 
the end to die alone. Come, give me the gems and 
we will return,” he said, as he advanced towards 
him. 

Onesimus was in the meantime slowly moving 


168 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


closer to the priest, as he meant to prevent him 
from making any sign that would bring back the 
guards. 

“ I have nothing that belongs to the gods,” re- 
plied Adeil. 

“ Very well, as thou wisheth,” said the priest, 
as he started to raise his hand. But Onesimus 
was too quick for him, and ere he had raised it 
but a few inches, with a bound he had his left arm 
around the priest’s neck and his hand pressed 
tightly over his mouth, while with his right hand 
he grasped his free arm, one arm being pressed 
against his side so tightly that he could not use 
it. 

“ Take a piece of cloth, Adeil, and make a gag,” 
Onesimus directed. When this was done, Adeil 
clutched the priest’s throat to prevent his mak- 
ing an outcry while Onesimus removed his hand to 
insert the gag. When this was done the priest 
was nearly dead, but after he was securely bound, 
hand and foot, he revived sufficiently to show the 
hatred and anger in his face that he could not ex- 
press in words. 

“ We will send the guards to look for thee,” 
said Adeil, as he stooped and removed the beads 
that hung from the priest’s girdle. “ As a pre- 
caution against getting lost in this dreary, mys- 
terious place, I will take this little trinket with 
us,” he continued. 

In the meantime, Onesimus was helping him- 
self to a generous supply of the riches in the way 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 169 

of diamonds and precious stones, which lay there 
in such a tempting fashion. 

Adeil now took particular notice of the beads, 
a description of which, and the method of using 
in going from one chamber to another, he had 
read at the time he found the packet of papers 
at Baalbec. It was a string of most beautifully 
matched pearls. Each pearl was engraved with 
hieroglyphics, and the engraving filled with glossy 
black enamel. Suspended from the string hung a 
beautiful diamond of magnificent proportions and 
luster. The beads as they were used were run 
from one side of the string to the other, and in 
this way they were not mixed, so Adeil had no 
trouble in starting at the right place on the 
string. 

“ We had better hurry out of this place,” said 
Onesimus. “ If we stay here much longer the 
guards will return, and then our carcasses will, like 
those we saw a short time ago, stay here and rot,” 
he continued. 

Adeil directed Onesimus to take one of the 
torches, and, after consulting the next pearl on the 
string for a moment, he started, to Onesimus’ as- 
tonishment, direct to the wall at the center of the 
room. There he examined closely some hiero- 
glyphics, and, placing his hands upon the wall, a 
panel silently raised and they passed through, and, 
as Adeil touched a certain figure on the wall, the 
panel closed again, leaving no trace of the open- 
ing. 


170 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


In this manner they went from one chamber to 
another for some time, and began to feel easier 
as each room passed through brought them nearer 
daylight. 

They had just come into a very large room, 
supported by a great many columns, when Onesi- 
mus, in looking to one side, saw in the distance a 
flickering light that could come from no other 
source than the torches of the guards. He 
grabbed Adeil by the arm and pointed towards the 
light. Here in this terrifying stillness and dark- 
ness that one could almost feel, bravery and cour- 
age had a dilferent significance. 

Adeil hastily examined the beads, and then, 
pointing to a column a little way ahead, said: 

“ Dost thou see that column a little to the right 
of a direct line with the light of the guards ? ” 

“ Yes,” Onesimus replied. 

“ That is our only hope of escape now. They 
have undoubtedly learned of our disappearance 
and are now looking for us. They also know that 
in all probability we will return in the most direct 
way the beads will lead us. They evidently have 
seen our light, as they are looking for us. Now 
we must extinguish the light, and mind you do not 
become excited and lose your head, or all is lost, 
for we must get to that column.” 

Onesimus put out the light, which left them in 
the most oppressive darkness that he had ever 
imagined. Grasping Adeil by the sleeve they 
rapidly made their way towards the column, as 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


171 


Adeil had said, and directly toward their pursuers, 
who evidently noticed that the light was extin- 
guished, for they began to spread out and to in- 
crease their pace. Adeil now counted three lights, 
the number of torches remaining. They soon 
reached the column. Adeil w’as feeling around on 
the hieroglyphics, while Onesimus stood and 
watched the advancing lights. Soon they were so 
close that he could hear the guards talking. He 
had passed the point where there was fear or 
trembling. He realized that unless Adeil soon 
succeeded in performing some sort of a miracle, 
that he was looking sure death in the face. He 
was staring at the approaching guards when Adeil 
pulled him towards the column, which had opened 
for them, and as soon as they were inside Adeil 
again began to feel of the walls. They had the 
satisfaction of seeing the panel descend just as 
the light from the torches of the guards began to 
shine around the sides of the columns. The panel 
had no more than reached the floor than the col- 
umn was surrounded by the guards. 

“ We will light the torch again,” said Adeil, 
“ for there is no immediate danger from them. 
They will continue to look for us in the room we 
have just left until they have searched every nook 
and corner. The way we will now have to go is 
longer than the route we were to return by, and 
our only hope will be that they will stay here 
searching for us until we have gained what we lose 
in going this way.” 


172 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


Lighting the torch, they went up a steep, nar- 
row winding stair, and soon came out into a nar- 
row corridor, hastening on in a similar way to 
the way they had entered, for what seemed to 
Onesimus twice the distance they had traveled in 
reaching the treasure-chamber. 

At last they reached the court from which they 
had started. Here Adeil, meeting the chief priest, 
said : 

“ When we had nearly reached the end of our 
journey I noticed the priest make some motion 
with his hands and the guards disappeared. He 
then advanced to the wall, I presume, to cause 
some secret door to open, when he tripped on some 
object lying in his path and fell in such a way 
as to be seriously injured. Fearing the return 
would be very slow, as he could not walk, he gave 
me this string of beads, instructing me as to the 
manner of reading them, and told us to make haste 
and ask thee to send a detachment of the guards 
to his assistance, as the four with him would be- 
come very tired and have a tedious task in get- 
ting him out from the place. The priest did not 
seem to care to trust the secret of the method of 
reading the beads to the guards, as he insisted 
that we come to you, when we began to plan for 
his removal.” 

Thanking them for their kindness, the chief 
priest took eight guards and started to the as- 
sistance of the wounded priest. Adeil and Onesi- 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 173 

mus, thanking the chief priest for the privilege of 
visiting this wonderful place, departed. 

As soon as they were out of sight, they hur- 
ried as. fast as they could, for it was getting late 
and would be quite dark when they would reach 
the inn at Arsinoe. There was no one in sight 
when they arrived, and as it was now moonlight, 
they went to the stables, where they found Aner 
and Tero waiting for them, they having returned, 
fearing that as it was getting dark they might 
miss their masters on their return from the laby- 
rinth. 

Taking their camels they started on their re- 
turn journey to Alexandria. Traveling in a 
southeasterly direction, they continued until they 
came to the pass through the Libyan range, where 
they camped for the night. 

At the first sign of approaching dawn they were 
up and on their journey. 


CHAPTER IV 


After a hot and tedious journey they arrived 
at Ghizeh, and learned that on the day following 
a caravan was to leave for Alexandria. There 
was not at this time any vessel ready to sail, and 
they decided to join the caravan and travel over- 
land. 

“ Adeil,” said Onesimus, “ as thou art better 
acquainted with the people and customs in these 
parts, perhaps it would be best if thou wilt pur- 
chase such things as we will need on the journey 
through the desert.” 

“ Go to the inn and rest, Onesimus, and I will 
take Aner and make all necessary preparations,” 
Adeil replied. 

Leaving the camels in the care of Tero, Adeil 
and Aner went to the shops and made the neces- 
sary purchases. It was quite late when they re- 
turned to the inn, and Onesimus had retired. 

The following morning Adeil was up and dressed 
before Onesimus awakened. When the latter 
opened his eyes he sat up and gazed in wonder at 
his friend, who was attired as are most travelers 
of the desert. 

A long flowing linen garment extended down to 
his ankles. Wrapped around his head was a 
square of silk, while several thicknesses of mus- 
174 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


175 


lin, falling from under the turban, protected the 
back of his neck, giving him a very grotesque ap- 
pearance. 

“ A false beard and some paint, and thy dis- 
guise will be complete,” Onesimus said. “ But 
why hast thou put on such a costume ? ” he con- 
tinued. 

“ When we have been a few hours in the sun of 
the desert, thou wilt readily understand,” Adeil 
replied. 

Onesimus was soon attired in a like manner. 
Their other garments were wrapped into a bun- 
dle to be carried upon the camels. Their weapons, 
however, they concealed in the folds of their loose 
robes, for there was no telling what kind of com- 
panions they were to have on their journey, or 
when a band of robbers might appear. 

When they arrived at the caravanserai,^ which 
was situated just outside of the city, Onesimus 
noted the arrangement of the place with much in- 
terest, as he had never seen one before. 

The massive iron-plated folding doors were 
thrown wide open, and the heavy iron chains, which 
were used as an additional security at night-time, 
were now hung from hooks across the spacious 
doorways to keep any of the camels, should one 
of them by chance get loose, from wandering 
away. The building was constructed in the form 

1 Caravanserai, a large enclosure for the shelter and pro- 
tection of caravans, and travelers generally. It is usually 
situated near, but not within the walls of the city. 


176 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


of a quadrangle, and the court was large enough 
to accommodate two hundred and fifty crouching 
camels. As they passed through the great portal, 
which was wide and high enough to permit loaded 
camels to enter, they were met by the Karawan- 
Bashi,^ who was a man taller than the average, 
and, being awkward in his movements, he made a 
very comical appearance as he strutted about in his 
gayly decorated clothes, which he had worn ever 
since he had been elected as head man of the cara- 
van. 

The Karawan-Bashi came to Onesimus, believ- 
ing him to be a man of some importance, and 
asked him to help in getting the caravan started. 
Onesimus expressed a willingness to assist him, and 
hastened to see what could be done to hurry the 
men who were apparently in no hasl^. 

Going up the broad open stone steps that led 
to the upper rooms, Onesimus passed down the ar- 
cade, urging those who were loitering in the prepa- 
rations for departure. 

Having aroused all of the men and seeing that 
they were now coming to a realization of the fact 
that it would soon be getting very warm and that 
there was necessity for haste, he passed on down 
to the court below. Here men were hurrying to 

2 Karawan-Bashi, of Perso-Turkish composition, is the 
name given to leader or director of a caravan, who is 
elected by common consent before starting out. He en- 
forces discipline and acts as spokesman and general man- 
ager. The Karawan-Bashi was most often simply called 
Reis (Chief). 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


177 


and fro, carrying bundles and bales of merchandise 
out from under the lower arcade, to be by others 
packed on the camels. Others were watering the 
camels, some were filling the water skins, with 
which each camel was supplied. As the beasts 
were watered they were loaded with their packs, 
and as the time for departure drew near the men 
became excited and noisy in their anxiousness to 
start. The porter of the caravanserai in vain 
tried to preserve order and quiet, but the men 
paid little attention to him, and all was dust and 
confusion, and a perfect din of noise, with the 
yells, curses, and “ hike,” “ hike ” of the drivers. 

Despite the fact that all were up early that 
they might get well on the way before it should 
become hot, the fierce glare of the mid-day sun 
was beating down upon them when the master of 
the caravan gave the order to start, and the long 
line of heavy laden camels swayed clumsily to their 
feet, and filed out of the enclosure. 

Onesimus, Adeil, and their servants had taken 
such a position in the square that when they came 
to start, as the animals fell into line they would 
be well to the head, and thus avoid a great deal 
of the dust that in places arose in dense clouds, 
and which, there not always being a breeze to carry 
it out of their way, made it very uncomfortable 
for those in the rear of the line. 

As they settled down to the dreary monoton}' 
of the journey, Onesimus’ mind wandered back 
over the events of the past few weeks. He was 


178 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


soon going farther back, and wondering what had 
happened to Sapphira, and all the rest; would he 
ever see them again? 

‘‘What of Lucius? Will we ever meet?” he 
muttered. “ Can it be possible that the gods will 
not permit us to meet that I may have an oppor- 
tunity to be revenged for all of my sufferings and 
wrongs? ” 

As they journeyed down the beautiful Nile val- 
ley, Onesimus felt a delightful sense of security; 
he now felt no fear of those to whom, a short time 
before, he had been a slave. It took one who had 
been dragged from palaces of luxury and pleasant 
surroundings, with all the joys that money could 
give and every wish of the heart gratified, to real- 
ize the pleasure of this feeling of security that ex- 
isted here as they traveled on. 


CHAPTER V 


In accordance with the usual custom they did 
not make a hard or full day’s journey the first day 
out, and so went into camp early in the evening, 
near a bend in the river. 

While the men were busy attending to the 
camels, preparing the humble evening meal, and 
getting the camp in readiness for the night, Adeil 
and Onesimus strolled down to the river. 

The sun was sinking low in the west, dazzling 
the eye with a marvelous spectacle of beautiful 
colorings. Along the horizon the desert appeared 
like billowy waves of gold and tawny rose; which 
changed to violet that faded and grew paler until 
it seemed to merge into the sky. The broad ex- 
panse of desert seemed to absorb a great deal of 
the glow and color from the fading sky, and 
brought out in grand relief the soft velvety pur- 
ple shadows cast by the pyramids and gently sway- 
ing palm trees. 

The face of Onesimus grew sad and lonely as 
he gazed reflectively at the scene before him. He 
had been forced by others to drink the very dregs 
of life’s cup of sorrow, and the silence and op- 
pressive grandeur of the scene caused an upris- 
ing of feelings and sentiments that were hard for 
him to analyze. 


179 


180 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


The Sphinx stared at him from out the silent, 
mellow evening glow as though it would interpret 
his emotions. 

Onesimus returned its stony stare, wondering 
if it had solved the mystery of life and death w^hich 
it must symbolize, for it ignores the death-dealing 
desert laying at its feet. Its gaze is towards the 
sand-swept plains running to the horizon, and the 
unknown. 

He had seen the Sphinx and pyramids before, 
but never when bathed in such beautiful coloring 
at evening, when one can almost feel the silence 
which strengthens the spell, and lures one’s 
thoughts away. 

When the restless movements of human events 
fade from the mind, and the every-day cares and 
perplexities find no awakening echo in the memory, 
then it is that the spirit of the desert silently and 
unconsciously enters the heart, and takes posses- 
sion of him who wanders to her threshold. 

After a time it brought peace to his mind, and 
his soul was charmed. 

Adeil had sat in silence, contemplating the beau- 
tiful scene before him. 

“ Has its charm invaded thee also ? ” asked 
Onesimus. 

Adeil slowly rose to his feet, while a hard ex- 
pression stole over his face as he pointed to the 
south, where the pyramids stood gleaming like gold 
in the last glows of sunlight, a beautiful back- 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


181 


ground for the lovely picture that Nature offered 
to their view, and said : 

“ The building of those pyramids was one of 
the greatest injustices to the Egyptian people this 
country has ever known, Onesimus.” 

“ Why dost thou envy the great kings who built 
them ? ” asked his friend. 

“ I envy them not ; thou dost not understand 
me. Did it ever occur to thee that if all of the 
energy, time and wealth that was expended upon 
them had been spent in improving the condition of 
the Egyptian people, that the names of the build- 
ers would have been woven into songs of praise, 
and sung for all generations to come.^^ Compare, 
if thou canst, the difference in the condition that 
this would have made in Egypt and her people. 

“ The building of those pyramids must have re- 
quired the very best talent of almost the entire 
country. There were many thousands of paid 
laborers and artisans of the better class ; slaves, 
though free; slaves, for they were compelled to 
leave the home, the shop and the field at the dicta- 
tion of that tyrant. This, together with the im- 
pressed service of a hundred thousand common 
laborers, working as they did, three months out of 
each year, in all four hundred thousand impressed 
laborers and slaves, must have caused such an 
amount of sorrow and suffering as the world had 
never known. The Egyptian people could have 
suffered but little more without perishing. Every 


182 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


stone in that pyramid was moved into place with 
the curses and moans of impressed and mistreated 
workmen, and cemented there with the tears and 
blood of a down trodden people. 

“ These Pharos seemed to have had but one am- 
bition, that of creating a work of architectural 
art for a tomb, which Greece and Rome might pre- 
sume not to rival, and whose works would be as 
that of children in comparison. 

“ They desired to have these monumental tombs 
so perfect, vast and imperishable that they would 
last for tens of thousands of years, and carry their 
fame to the very threshold of eternity. 

“ Instead of educating the people and giving 
them loftier views and ambitions, through the high 
priests and their underlings, they had taught the 
people to believe in the divine origin of all their 
monarchs, and also the inspiring dogma that their 
souls were to return in the flesh. Even with this 
encouragement of religion and superstition, it re- 
quired the continual use of the whip and other 
forms of punishment to keep the men at work. 

“ The avenues and doors of every temple were 
barred and the Egyptian people were forbidden 
to offer sacrifices to their gods as was their wont, 
while large numbers of freed-men of the common 
people were gathered and taken in great bands, 
like beasts of burden, to labor for this tyrant. 
This great army of human beings were treated like 
beasts. They labored for ten years on the road 
over which the stone was to be drawn, and the hill 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


183 


on which the pyramid was to stand. How did 
that road of polished marble, adorned with sculp- 
tured animals, help or benefit those enslaved peo- 
ple? And just think; twenty more long years of 
toil were spent in building the pyramids, — a lon- 
ger period than the span of many of their lives. 
It is recorded that from ten to twenty thousand 
perished annually, and thus, burial places had to 
be prepared for more than half a million people 
that one might be prepared for this tyrannical and 
profligate sovereign. Why! if all of these poor 
unfortunate beings who gave up their lives to that 
selfish ruler and this pile of stone were to march 
past us, we would have to sit here for two, possibly 
three months, watching the saddest spectacle that 
men ever beheld. 

“ When the roads were constructed some were 
sent to Syene, a distance of five hundred miles, 
to hew and polish immense blocks of granite, while 
others were sent to hew stone in the Arabian moun- 
tains. 

“ Great hordes of these people were straining 
to the limit of their endurance, dragging the stone, 
mile after mile. 

“ Canst thy mind grasp the stupendous amount 
of energy that must have been exerted to transport 
this great mass of stone? 

“ Here and there, lining almost the entire road- 
way, were trenches wherein were buried the unfor- 
tunate ones who dropped and died by the way. 

« It is recorded there that the sum of sixteen 


184 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


hundred talents ^ was paid for radishes, onions 
and garlic consumed by the workmen. Then con- 
sider the enormous amount that must have been 
spent for other food stuffs, clothing, iron and cop- 
per tools, and the services of those who were not 
impressed.^ 

“ Canst thou not see that an infinite amount of 
good might have been done Egypt and her people 
had this selfish ruler turned his ambitions toward 
that end? ” 

“ Yes, thou art right,” replied Onesimus, “ and 
I appreciate thy feelings,” he continued, as he 
arose and turned down the stream. Adeil joined 
him and together they descended into a rich valley. 
Near by was a grove of palm trees, laden with its 
golden fruit. Here also were orchards of olives 
and figs, touched with the beauty of the last rays 
of the fading sunbeams. Joining the groves on 
a beautiful hillside was a vineyard of luscious 
grapes, while further down the little valley, gar- 
dens were to be seen. Here and there were the 
huts of the slaves, while off to one side, in a grove 
of palms, nestled the home of the owner of the es- 
tate. 

1 Sixteen hundred talents equal to about one and a half 
million dollars. 

2 An eminent English architect estimates the Pyramid 
of Gizeh to have cost not less than £30,000,000, which in 
United States currency would be about $145,200,000. It is 
estimated that 5,000,000 tons of stone were used in its 
construction, and the evidence points to the fact that much 
of this was brought a distance of about seven hundred 
miles from quarries in Arabia. (Edison.) 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


185 


They walked down among the trees into the 
vineyard, helping themselves to the ripe clusters 
of fruit with which the vines were heavily laden. 
They had not proceeded far when they heard a 
woman’s voice singing, and stopped to listen. 
Adeil stepped out from among the vines and was 
looking for the singer, when she appeared. 

“ Just look, Onesimus, but she is a beautiful 
maiden ! ” 

Onesimus peered from among the vines, and see- 
ing a beautiful girl, stepped out into the path. 
He beheld in truth, a beautiful maiden, with 
Grecian features and a complexion like dark tinted 
ivory. She had no covering for her head save a 
wealth of dark hair, wound in a knot. She wore 
a loose, short dress, which showed her form to 
advantage. 

Onesimus stood and gazed at her in surprise 
for a few moments. 

“ Can it be that thou art Sapphira ? ” he said, 
as he advanced holding out both hands to her. 

The frightened look on her face had given way to 
one of perplexed wonder and astonishment. She 
had grown calm now, and her eyes resumed again 
their expression of sadness, as she said : 

“ I am Sapphira, the adopted daughter of Jez- 
reel, the overseer of the slaves.” 

“ In my heart I pity thee,” said Onesimus, as he 
took her small hands, now grown hard and callous 
with the work of a slave, in his, “ but I thought 
not to ever look into thine eyes again when I saw 


186 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


the hands of fate descend, and we were sold to 
masters going in opposite ways.” 

Tears came into her eyes as she noted the 
warmth of his greeting, and recalled how shame- 
fully she had treated him on the eve of his de- 
parture to fight for the defenseless city, and for 
her. 

“ What of thy father and mother.? ” 

“ Follow me, and I will conduct thee to them,” 
answered Sapphira. 

“ Adeil, wilt thou await my return ? ” said Onesi- 
mus, turning to follow Sapphira down the hill to- 
wards the huts they had noticed when first they 
had come into the vineyard. 

“ I will be here upon thy return,” replied Adeil. 

Onesimus and Sapphira walked on in silence, 
broken occasionally by the hideous yell of the 
jackal and the whining laugh of the hyena, as 
they roamed the hills near by. A weird silence 
had settled around them, yet the air was full of 
life, for the bats flitted here and there, like dark 
shadowy streaks, while various night birds hov- 
ered aloft on wide-spread wing. The twinkling 
lights began to make their appearance in the direc- 
tion where were located the huts of the slaves, 
which indicated that while the tired day had sunk 
into the arms of restful night, these poor unfor- 
tunate people could not yet lay aside their labors. 

Soon they drew near the huts, and in front of 
one Onesimus saw a fire burning, and it was to- 
wards this one that Sapphira led him. The bent 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


187 


figure of a woman hovered over the fire, cooking, 
while an old man sat near the door of the hut, 
gazing in silence into the small, flickering light 
of the fire, which seemed to struggle for existence 
in the beautiful glow of the light from a full moon, 
which now flooded the valley. 

“How the jackals howl!” said the old man, 
as he arose from his seat and approached the fire, 
drawing as he did so a worn and threadbare cot- 
ton cloth closer around his shoulders, as a protec- 
tion against the chill night air. 

As he neared the fire, he saw Sapphira and 
Onesimus approaching. 

“ Why hast thou stayed so long.^ ” he asked, as 
they came up to the fire. He noticed Onesimus, 
but did not recognize him. 

“ This, father, is Onesimus,” she said. 

Jezreel, for the old man was he, rubbed his fore- 
head in a dazed sort of way, for he was growing 
very feeble of late, and came forward and em- 
braced Onesimus, and said: 

“ Praise God for his continued goodness and 
mercies to us. I knew that if we asked him in 
faith believing that he would restore thee to thy 
friends.” 

After a short explanation of happenings since 
that eventful morning, Onesimus arose and said: 

“ It grows late and I must return. While it 
pains me to see thee here in this condition, yet it 
is a pleasure to find thee alive and well. I will let 
the caravan go on without me, and will return in 


188 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


the morning to see if I can purchase thy freedom 
from thy master.” 

“ May the good Lord bless thee,” said Jezreel, 
as Onesimus turned and made his way back up the 
hill to the place where he had left Adeil. 

As they walked back to their camp, Onesimus 
explained to Adeil what had detained him and his 
intention to delay their departure until he could 
take Jezreel and his family with them. 

“ I like thy plan, for I am not pleased with the 
appearance of some members of the caravan; be- 
sides, I shall enjoy helping thee in getting thy 
friends out of slavery.” 

When Onesimus and Adeil returned the camp 
was hushed in silence, no sound being heard save 
the peaceful chewing of cuds, or an occasional 
sound as a camel swallowed, or the chirp of a 
cricket. 

It was a beautiful night, and Onesimus had en- 
joyed the walk back to camp. The stars over- 
head seemed to float in deepest space, some blue 
and some white in the light they shed forth. The 
light of the moon was the crowning glory of the 
scene, which bathed the camp in a luminous glow 
that was a poem of color and peace. 

After Adeil had retired, Onesimus lay for some 
time looking up at the silvery stars, into the far 
off silent night. 

The soft breath of the cool breeze blew gently 
through the feathered tops of the palm trees. 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


189 


Their gentle swaying caused a flitting here and 
there of silvery shafts of moonlight. 

It was all strangely fascinating as he lay there 
on the threshold of the desert, whose great land of 
sand and silence beckoned to him with its insidious 
charms. The nodding of the graceful crests of 
the date-palms subtly said Come,” and he would 
that he could be up and going, — for while it was 
strange, and silent as death, — greatness, perhaps, 
lay in the going. 

The desert has a fascination by day, but when 
night has spread her cool sable mantle of dark- 
ness, tinted with the pale colorings of a beautiful 
moonlight, it is most wondrously alluring and be- 
witching. All the imagination, romance and fitful 
fancies of one’s nature are allowed to run riot. 

The evening ‘dews had chilled the air, and as 
Onesimus lay there in peace and at rest, his soul 
held communion with those mighty and intensive 
influences which seem to emanate from the desert’s 
sands ; while in his mind he was tripping over the 
moonlit billows of sand, towards far off Alexan- 
dria. On and on ; overhead the fathomless depths 
of a beautiful dark blue desert sky, garnished and 
glittering with countless millions of merry, twin- 
kling stars ; while under foot, rolling away to the 
hazy horizon of the imagination, was the undulated 
surface of billowy hillocks, like fossilized waves 
of the sea, while here and there larger dunes rose, 
dark, irregular and ghostlike, to block the way. 


190 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


but the mysterious spirit of the desert caused them 
to melt away and disappear as he advanced, while 
others took their places again ahead. 

The desert seemed peopled with countless num- 
bers of spirits of those who had fallen by the 
trackless wayside, though their souls had gone 
on to that Great heavenly Oasis which lies beyond 
the horizon of human intelligence, and where part- 
ing is no more. 

Some of these flitted here and there, looking 
sorrowfully backward, as though they fain would 
return; while others danced joyously onwards, 
pointing the way, and beckoning for him to fol- 
low. 

After a time his mind returned from its wan- 
derings with these idle fancies, and he fell asleep 
upon his rug, spread under the gentle swaying 
branches of the palm trees, to dream of the un- 
fathomable mysteries of the enchanted desert. 


CHAPTER VI 


At the end of the third watch/ when the dark- 
ness of the night was just beginning to fade into 
the gray dawn of the coming day, all were aroused 
and pandemonium broke loose among the dogs. 
Most of the slaves were set to the task of getting 
the camels in readiness for the departure of the 
caravan ; others were hurriedly preparing the 
morning meal. 

Onesimus went to the Reis and informed him of 
his intention to lay over a few days. 

The main body of the caravan was soon in 
readiness to start, and ere long the hoarse voice 
of the Karawan-Bashi was heard ordering them to 
proceed, and the lazily moving camels swung into 
line and were soon filing off and fading away in 
the hazy violet mists of the distance. 

13 A. M. Subsequent to the establishment of the Roman 
supremacy, the number of watches was increased to four, 
which were described either according to their numerical 
order, as in the case of the “fourth watch” (Matthew 
14:25), or by the terms, “even, midnight, cock crowing 
and morning” (Mark 13:35). These terminated respec- 
tively at 9 p. M., midnight, 3 a. m. and 6 a. m. Caravans 
generally divided the day’s journey into two stages, — the 
first being from about 3 or 4 a. m. to about 10 in the fore- 
noon; a halt follows, then traveling is resumed between 2 
and 3 p. m. and continued till 6, or even 8 in the evening. 

191 


192 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


The night dew, which nourishes the desert plant 
life, and which a short time before jeweled the 
blades of rank grass and sand lilies, had perished 
in the warmth of the dawning of the day. The 
sun was now throwing here and there through the 
interstices of the palm trees long darts of roseate 
light. The violet-tinted mists were vanishing and 
the golden glow gave notice that again day would 
soon spread its brazen mantle over the sun 
scorched desert. 

Soon after the caravan left, while it was yet 
early morning, Onesimus started to visit the owner 
of Sapphira and her people. 

As he reached the brow of the hill, overlooking 
the valley below, what a magnificent sight met his 
view. There were beautiful groves of stately date- 
palms, with countless numbers of figs, pomegran- 
ate and olive trees. The dew-kissed leaves of the 
beautiful olive trees sparkled and scintillated as 
they were gently swayed by the light morning 
zephyrs. 

As Onesimus descended among the trees, the 
light of the newly risen sun filtered through the 
boughs overhead, giving a charm and strength to 
the spell he knew reached out to grasp all who 
wandered to the desert, and which is so subtle and 
insidious that it is beyond the power of the pen 
to make it real to the thoughts and imagination of 
one who has never seen it. 

When Onesimus reached the home of the owner 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


193 


of the estate, he had little trouble in purchasing 
Jezreel, his wife and Sapphira at a very reason- 
able figure, as Jezreel and his wife were failing in 
health very fast. He also purchased extra camels 
for the addition to their small caravan. 

Hasty preparations were made to start, for the 
morning was rapidly passing. 

Onesimus found that while he might have made 
a good selection in the camels he had just pur- 
chased from point of service, they were a bad lot 
to handle and had to be kept muzzled, except while 
being fed, unless constantly on the lookout. One 
old fellow in particular, which they named the 
“ biter,” would make a lunge at them, and missing, 
its jaws would come together with a snapping 
crack that would make them shudder at the 
thoughts of what would have happened had those 
jaws closed on any part of their bodies, and Onesi- 
mus found it necessary to handle this one with a 
rope fastened to a ring which pierced its right 
nostril. 

It was late when all was in readiness, and their 
small caravan waited only for Adeil to give the 
order to start, for he led the way while Onesimus 
acted as the rear guard. 

As the sun crept higher and higher, and the 
zenith was reached, the heat had been bearable, 
but as hour after hour passed and it grew hotter 
continually, it seemed to Onesimus that it was fast 
reaching a point where it would be intolerable, un- 


194 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


less a cooling breeze should spring up. Mounted 
on the camels they escaped the fiercest of the re- 
flection, but not the radiation of the burning sun. 


CHAPTER VII 


Hour after hour, and day after day, they had 
ridden ; around them as far as the eye could reach, 
in sparkling yellow waves, stretched the desert, a 
silent, dreary plain of wriggling waves of heat. 
Each succeeding day seemed to grow hotter. 
There was nothing to temper the sun’s heat, ex- 
cept at rare intervals when they passed through 
the faint shadows of a cloud, which seemed to come 
like the spirit of an angel as a brief and fleeting 
respite from the intense heat. Then it passed on, 
stealing away across the desert, or vanishing as 
mysteriously as it had come. 

Onesimus was becoming restless ; the inactivity 
and quietness was chafing. The hours passed 
slowly as he rode, listening to the soft scuff, scuff 
of the camels’ feet and the creaking of the lash- 
ings of their packs. He felt an inward sense of 
relief that his position in their caravan gave him 
the semblance of an excuse to remain away from 
Sapphira. 

There was nothing to break the monotony. 
For hours at a time he would watch the sand-rip- 
ples as they were broken by the heart-shaped foot- 
prints of the camels. After a time he began to 
look with a feeling of commiseration upon the pa- 
195 


196 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


tient, dignified beasts of the desert, without which 
man could not penetrate the desert wastes. 

The camel has been respected, valued, and ill 
treated by man since the earliest times. For 
countless ages he has traveled the caravan routes 
and marked the sand-blown trails of the trackless 
desert with his bones, bleached and white as a 
guide for future caravans. 

Through a leaden sky, the sun was pouring over 
the heat-swept sands its pitiless rays, which 
scorched the skin and dried up the tongue. Their 
water skins were leaking and the water was getting 
low, and this had caused them to make longer 
marches each day than was usually done. 

This, though it had been continued only a few 
days, was very hard on Sapphira and her parents. 

Tero, who was riding next behind Adeil, had 
been watching the heavens for some time. The 
bright blue of the sky had been fading away into 
a gray, and this was now changing to a heavy 
black. He called to Adeil and made known his 
fears of the evident approach of a terrible desert 
storm. Having made numerous caravan journeys, 
Adeil was familiar with the dangers of these 
storms, for the travelers who were caught un- 
awares, and noting the peculiar appearance of the 
sky, said: 

‘‘ I fear we will have a simoon, and if so, these 
cliffs will prevent us from being covered with sand, 
should the storm last the usual length of time, but 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 197 

they will not keep out the dust or protect us from 
the intense heat.” 

As he spoke he headed for some sand hills, one 
side of which terminated in a perpendicular cliff, 
that stood a little to the right of them. They 
were not long in reaching the cliff, and were very 
much pleased to find that the face of it was much 
cracked and very irregular; in one place one of 
these breaks in the side extended far into the face 
of the hill and could be used as a shelter. 

The sun had now lost its splendor, and was of a 
dim violet color. Great clouds began to appear 
in the sky, which was caused by the mass of im- 
palpable sand that the wind had picked up and 
was carrying along. 

They lost no time in getting the camels un- 
loaded and secured them in a position where they 
would be protected as much as possible from the 
oncoming storm. The luggage they piled against 
the side and around the opening in the cliff, into 
which they carried their water skins and provisions. 
The light warm breeze which was blowing had been 
increasing very rapidly, and had grown in inten- 
sity until it was suffocating. 

The air was now filled with the sand, every atom 
of which is heated by its contact with the atmos- 
phere, and seemed to stick where it hit, burning 
like sparks of fire, which the wind was now blowing 
fast and furious about them. Something terrible 
in nature was happening, for, while the sun had 


198 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


not yet gone down, night in all of its most hideous 
forms covered the earth. The wind swished and 
roared around the corners of the cliff, and through 
and into every nook and crevice of the hole in 
which they had taken shelter. These dark death- 
dealing clouds of sand were whirled along at a 
terrible pace, ofttimes coming from as far as 
Sicilia. 

Soon a thick sheet of flying sand hid every- 
thing, as the fury of the storm broke upon them. 
The atmosphere was surcharged with a stifling 
heat, while the finely powdered sand-dust per- 
meated everything. Their eyes became inflamed 
and their tongues and throats so parched that it 
was with difficulty that a word could be uttered. 

“ By the immortal gods,” said Onesimus, “ if 
this blow continues we will all die in this miserable 
hole.” 

“ Lucky for us it was that we happened to be 
at this place when it began, else it would have gone 
hard with us,” Adeil replied. 

They remained huddled up in their cramped 
quarters until late the next forenoon before the 
storm showed any signs of abating. At times 
the wind lessened a trifle, when the clouds sep- 
arated enough for them to see that the sun had 
risen, shedding an ominous dirty red light upon 
the earth. 

When the storm had subsided enough so that 
they could distinguish things in their shelter, 
Adeil noticed that Jezreel lay with his head turned 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


199 


to one side, his tongue protruded from his mouth, 
his eyes were turned in his head, and he appeared 
as though dead. 

Adeil hastily knelt over him, and placing a small 
flask to his lips, forced a few drops into his mouth, 
and in a few moments he gave the unconscious man 
another dose of the elixir, when he opened his eyes 
and was soon able to sit up. Adeil then gave each 
of the others a few drops of the elixir, for they 
were all affected by the storm. 

The simoon passed almost as suddenly as it had 
come, and they began to bestir themselves, to 
shake the sand and dirt out of their clothes and 
luggage, and to get things in readiness to con- 
tinue on their journey. 


CHAPTER VIII 


The sun was far advanced in the heavens, and 
all Alexandria had been astir for some hours be- 
fore Onesimus arose. The fatigue of the desert 
journey and the rush of getting things in readi- 
ness for his journey to Rome had left him tired 
and weary. 

“ Hast thou concluded the negotiations with the 
trader for the jewels? ” he asked, as he met Adeil 
upon coming into the living room. 

“ I have but recently returned from an interview 
with him; he leaves to-day for Ephesus, and has 
made payment in full for the entire lot, and I have 
here one-half for thee.” 

“ That will make matters easier for me,” Onesi- 
mus replied, “ for I have purchased a villa near 
Lake Mareotis for Jezreel and his family, for thou 
knowest that I could not go away and leave them 
in poverty or want. There they can continue 
their worship of the Nazarene with less fear of 
molestation than they could were they to live in 
the city. I will go to-day and finish the payments 
for it, and then I can leave feeling that I have done 
my duty to them.” 

“ V\^ill not Sapphira expect thee to sometime 
forget the past and return to her? ” asked Adeil. 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


201 


“ No, in her heart she knew that all was ended 
between us as soon as I learned of her meetings 
with that villain. But all is not yet over with him 
and myself,” Onesimus muttered between his teeth. 

“ I was speaking to the Governor in regard to 
thy plan to flood the desert, and he requested me 
to bring thee with me when I call this afternoon.” 

“ That sounds encouraging ; perhaps I will yet 
get into the circle with Nero,” replied Onesimus, 
“ and that will bring me more opportunities for my 
much desired revenge,” he continued. 

It was after sunset when Adeil and Onesimus ap- 
proached the Governor’s palace. A servant ush- 
ered them into the atrim,^ which was lighted only 
by the compluvium.^ They had not long to wait, 
for soon a shadowy form parted the curtains and 
approached them through the gloom that fllled the 
room. He called to a slave to light the lamps. 
Soon the great room was flooded with the light 
from many richly decorated and fancily wrought 
lamps of hammered silver and brass. The interior 
was lined with handsome marble, with a polish that 
was mirror-lik6. The floor was of polished gran- 
ite, with here and there rugs of Persian manufac- 
ture. At the arches and doorways hung elegant, 
elaborately embroidered silken curtains from the 
far East. The cushions and coverings of the 

1 Atrium, an entrance and reception hall, the most im- 
portant, and usually the most splendid apartment of the 
house. It was lighted by an opening in the roof, called 
the compluvium. 


20^ ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 

couches were of the rarest Egyptian needle worked 
materials. 

Onesimus was surprised to see Aner in charge 
of the Governor’s household, a position Adeil had 
secured for him in return for friendship and as- 
sistance, without which his life would undoubtedly 
have been sacrificed that the traditions, customs 
and laws of the priesthood might remain inviolate. 

As the Governor approached, Adeil stepped for- 
ward and said: 

“ At thy request, I have brought Onesimus that 
he may tell thee of his plan.” 

“ Be seated, and I will hear what thou hast to 
say about converting the desert into fields and pas- 
tures.” 

Slaves having brought seats and placed them 
near the Governor, Onesimus and Adeil advanced 
to them and sat down. 

Onesimus felt that if he could interest the Gov- 
ernor in his plan he could get a letter to Nero, and 
this would give him a better standing and would 
give him considerable prestige, and make certain 
an audience with the Emperor. 

“ My plan,” said Onesimus, “ is likely to meet 
with some opposition, but should it be acted upon, 
will cause Nero’s name to be handed down to the 
coming generations as having accomplished one of 
the greatest and most beneficial undertakings ever 
attempted. 

“ At one time when I was crossing the great 
Libyan Desert, we found the remains of several sea 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE g03 

monsters and crocodiles. We also found in other 
places what were undoubtedly, at one time, water 
courses, with here and there deep erosion of the 
rocks that in some places formed the banks of the 
rivers. These things, together with a good many 
minor things which I noted while in the desert, 
have given me the belief that at one time a great 
deal of the desert was an inland sea. If it once 
was, then Nero can make it one again.” 

‘‘ Thy plan is a bold one,” said the Governor, 
“ and as thou sayest, would perpetuate the name 
of Nero as accomplishing the greatest feat in the 
world’s history. I think best for thee to go to 
Nero, and explain to him thy plans. I will give 
thee a letter of recommendation, which will insure 
an audience with the Emperor without any diffi- 
culty.” 

The Governor called to his scribe and soon had 
a message prepared for Onesimus to carry to Nero. 
Having secured the message, they returned to the 
home of Adeil, where Onesimus made preparations 
for departure, as there was a vessel sailing for 
Rome on the following afternoon. 

It was evening when Onesimus set out for the 
villa wherein he had established Jezreel and his 
family, to say farewell to them, for on the mor- 
row he would be leaving. 

As Onesimus was about to leave, Sapphira asked 
him to accompany her for a last walk, hoping he 
might return again to her, though her heart told 
her it could not be. 


204 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


The rising moon was shimmering the lotus bor- 
dered banks of the lake. The night wind was 
rustling the palm branches overhead, filling his 
heart with a chill minor refrain. The mellow 
notes of a swan, floating peacefully upon the lake, 
was wafted to his ears. His heart was full of pity 
for the girl at his side, yet he was powerless to 
change the trend of their lives. Onesimus looked 
down into her face, which was wonderfully beauti- 
ful ; her eyes were looking straight into his — 
great soulful eyes, full of intensity and question- 
ing. He held her hand a moment, studying her 
face, while he searched his heart for one thrill of 
old emotions, which might change the whole cur- 
rent of their lives. It was useless, however, the 
last spark had faded away. He gave an inward 
sigh of relief, for he knew that she was not brave 
enough to keep her faith with him when riches 
beckoned in the old days. He also realized that 
their ways must part, so far as the old conditions 
were concerned. 

“ Onesimus ! ” she said presently, her heart and 
voice breaking into a last despairing prayer, 
“ Onesimus, canst thou not forgive me.? I have 
suffered for my faults and failings — canst thou 
not take me back to thy heart as of old.? ” 

She paused, but Onesimus made no reply, and 
she continued: 

“ Is there no forgiveness — can I make no sac- 
rifice great enough to blot this anger from thy 
heart.? ” 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


205 


Her gaze sought his face and for a few moments 
her love beckoned him with those beautiful eyes, 
but he answered her not, and with an effort she re- 
gained her composure, while she said: 

‘‘ Thou art going away, and shall I never see 
thee again? If so, may we not at least part as 
friends ? ” 

Onesimus was almost powerless to withstand 
the pleading of her voice and eyes, which called 
him back to her. 

“ We shall, I hope, always be friends, dear 
friends, but my heart does not show me the way 
for anything more. I must say farewell, for I 
have much to attend to, as I leave for Rome on the 
morrow.” 

Onesimus raised her hands to his lips, and then, 
without a word or glance, he was gone, and she 
was alone. 

Upon returning to Adeil’s, Onesimus completed 
his arrangements for departure, leaving some 
minor details for Tero to attend to and follow on 
the next boat. 


CHAPTER IX 


It was late in the afternoon before all was ready 
and the vessel prepared for the voyage. There 
were many farewells said and waved as the lines 
were cast loose. The orders were given, and soon 
the ship was speeding on its way, for the rowers 
bent heartily to their task. 

Onesimus stood on the poop of the vessel and 
waved a farewell to Adeil, Mary and Tero. His 
features were half wistful and half sad as he gazed 
at his friends, and Egypt, now fading away. 
What a grand picture it was ! And this was the 
land wherein he had gained liberty and life, — the 
land wherein new ambitions and opportunities 
came and unfolded unto him. 

Beautiful strains of music floated to him, for 
the musicians were playing at the bow, the strains 
softened and sweetened by their proximity to the 
water. Garlands of roses and sweet scented flow- 
ers, given him by his friends, lay scattered at his 
feet. His friends stood on the quay, now full 
of life and action, almost at the identical spot 
whereon he had stepped as a free man. It was 
fast fading away; now they were mere specks, 
standing as he knew full well his faithful friends 
206 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


207 


would do, until the vessel had passed out of sight. 

Pharos now was fast fading into a hazy mist. 
The land grew dimmer and dimmer, and ere long 
was as a pale narrow ribbon, separating sea and 
sky. The surface of the sea was covered with mil- 
lions of dancing and sparkling ripples, made 
golden by the light of the setting sun. 

The long swells of the open sea rocked the ship, 
but she rode gracefully over them. The foam 
hissed under the stern, as it swept past. 

A moment longer he tarried, for still there was 
a faint line which marked the last sight of land. 
It soon faded away, and was gone; soon, also, 
would the sun drop out of sight, for even now it 
hung, a large flaming red disk, over the water, then 
lowered until it seemed resting on the crest of the 
western waves ; a moment it poised there and then 
dropped from sight, with only the beautiful after- 
glow illuminating the sky, which soon must give 
way to the darkness of the coming night. 

At last Onesimus aroused to his present sur- 
roundings. Many were on the deck at that time, 
but his attention was drawn to a beautiful young 
woman and an elderly man of dignifled appear- 
ance. The man was evidently her father. He 
was seated and she was standing by his side, en- 
joying the beauty of the evening. 

The following morning Onesimus was up with 
the sun, feeling like his old self, and fully recov- 
ered from the tiring march on the desert. He 
stood for a time at the stern of the vessel, watch- 


208 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


ing the play of the light from the rising sun on 
the polished blades of the oars that rose and fell 
with unerring regularity, forcing the vessel 
through the water at a good rate of speed, leaving 
in her wake a streak of gleaming foam. The sky 
was clear, with just enough wind to ruffle the sur- 
face of the water. Onesimus was soon aroused 
from his reveries by the approach of the old gen- 
tleman who had attracted his attention the evening 
before. 

“Ye gods, what a morning, and seat” he said, 
as he approached to where Onesimus was standing. 
“ Neptune must have been out for a chariot ride 
in the early hours,” he continued.^ 

“ Yes, a beautiful sea, and the wind fans the 
water as though laden with the breath of all the 
gods,” Onesimus replied. 

“ If I mistake not, thou art Onesimus, the win- 
ner of the Olympian games, and the cause of my 
fortune being increased to the extent of forty 
talents thereby,” said the Roman. ^ 

“ Yes, thy memory is correct,” said Onesimus. 
“ But I have not the honor of thy acquaintance,” 
he added. 

“ Knowest thou not Orlando Florus, of Rome.? ” 

“ I have known him by reputation only, in the 

1 In Roman mythology, Neptune was the god of the 
sea. He also created the horse and was the patron of 
horse-races. His own horses had brazen hoofs and golden 
manes. They drew his chariot over the sea, which “ be- 
came smooth ” before him. 

2 A Roman talent is about $480.00. 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


209 


past, and now it gives me pleasure to meet in this 
way one so honored by the Emperor,” Onesimus 
replied. 

They were soon interrupted in their conversa- 
tion by the call to breakfast. 

Orlando Florus was given the seat of honor at 
the head of the table, next to him was his daugh- 
ter, and Onesimus found himself occupying a place 
nearly opposite to the beautiful girl he had seen 
with Florus the evening before. He had taken 
little interest before in his fellow passengers and 
conditions in general, but now, as his eyes rested 
upon this girl with such a delicate, dreamy face, 
the flesh of her neck and arms gleaming in the light 
of the newly risen sun, as it entered an open door, 
her exquisite figure clothed in fine silks and jewels, 
he was conscious of an awakening of thoughts and 
feelings entirely new to him. 

Onesimus finished his breakfast in an absent 
minded manner, and soon was on deck again. 

When Berenice and Florus, her father, came on 
deck she asked him who it was that found so much 
of interest in the unchanging, but ever interesting, 
sight of the foaming trail of the ship. 

“ He,” said her father, is Onesimus, who goes 
to Rome on some special mission to Nero, or such 
was the report at Alexandria, but that mission is 
supposed, for the present, to be a secret.” 

The curly hair blowing about his ears, the per- 
fect poise of a very intellectual head, from which 
sparkled a pair of beautiful magnetic eyes, these 


210 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


constituted the principal charm of his face. The 
rolling of the ship did not seem to trouble him in 
the least, for he stood as though he was a fixture. 
There was something about this stranger that at- 
tracted her attention, in spite of herself. Being 
able, as she was, to bring the scions of Rome’s 
wealth and aristocracy to her feet, it nettled her 
to think that this stranger drew her continued 
thoughts and glances. 

As she stood looking at him, she said to her 
father: 

‘‘ That man fascinates me as no man ever has be- 
fore. I turn my gaze in another direction and 
soon I find myself looking his way. It makes my 
flesh creep to think that this stranger can have in 
a moment grasped my thoughts in such a way. Is 
he possessed of some unnatural power, or am I 
losing my senses ? ” 

“ Neither, Berenice ; it is simply a case of thy 
having met the master of thy frivolous heart. 
That man I have noted has the most frank and 
winning look I have seen in a man’s face in many 
years.” 

Berenice turned away and went to the bow of 
the ship to watch the oars, as they rose and fell 
with unerring regularity, helping the sails to give 
speed to the ship. She grew restless, and said to 
herself : 

“ I can’t help it — he has bewitched me. I 
shall avail myself of the liberty of a galley’s deck 
and go and speak to him.” 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


211 


The more she thought of it, the more she wanted 
to know him. 

“ Life is so monotonous here, and after all, no 
harm could come from it,” she said to herself. 
So, on the impulse of the moment, she walked up 
to him, and asked a question that seemed to startle 
him. 

“ Dost thou find more of interest in gazing back 
upon past scenes and friends than in thy present 
surroundings? ” she asked, with one of those be- 
witching smiles that had led so many hearts her 
way. 

“ No,” he said, as he turned and gave her a 
glance that seemed to penetrate her through and 
through, laying bare her very thoughts. “ I was 
thinking of my mission to Nero, and turning over 
and over the prospects for its success or failure,” 
he continued, with a frankness that surprised her. 

She wondered what this mission to Nero might 
be, yet she dared not ask him, — those eyes for- 
bade the question. 

Berenice knew that she was blushing, and the 
momentary silence was distressing to her. 

Onesimus saw the girl’s confusion, and made a 
place for her at his side. 

“ Had my mind not been occupied at the time 
thou spokest, I perhaps would have been gazing at 
the sea, for there is always a new pleasure in 
watching the foaming water, the flying spindriff, 
and the heaving waves which the ship cuts asunder 
and throws about, as though she were perfect nlis- 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


21 ^ 

tress of the deep,” he said, as Berenice took a 
place at his side. She found herself at once tak- 
ing an interest in the sights that so interested 
him, — his mood seemed to have been communi- 
cated to her and left her in a reflective frame of 
mind. She tried to look into the future and see 
what might be the outcome of her rashness in ad- 
dressing this stranger. 

“ Dost thou know,” said Onesimus, “ that I 
have had, and perhaps without cause, grave mis- 
givings for the safety of this ship, ever since those 
clouds began to assemble yonder,” as he pointed to 
a dark bank of clouds appearing off the port bow, 
“ and seest thou how the wind has increased since 
sunrise, and the sea is growing momentarily more 
troubled See how these waves are running 
now? ” and even as he was speaking they heard the 
hoarse cry to the sailors to furl the sails. 

“ Dost thou fear a storm? ” she said, with a 
shade of uneasiness in her voice. 

‘‘ A bit of a blow would surprise me not,” he 
answered in a reassuring voice, as he turned his 
gaze seaward, while his eyes again took that far 
away look, and it annoyed her to think that he 
should not be more interested in her. 

“ Thy mission to Nero must be of a very serious 
nature, to so fully occupy thy thoughts amid such 
surroundings as these,” she said. 

If thou didst but know all the scenes tO' which 
my mind turns back, thou wouldst not be so ready 
with these questions, and would return to thy 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


S13 


friends and say, ‘ There is he who was once a gal- 
ley slave, an adventurer, and not worthy to walk 
the same deck with me,’ ” he retorted, almost sav- 
agely, as his mind called him back to the suffering 
he had passed through for no fault of his, yet he 
would have given his right hand the instant it was 
said, could he have recalled those harsh and hasty 
words. Was not here on the same ship with him 
Orlando Florus of Rome, and would he not cause 
his arrest as soon as his daughter conveyed this 
piece of intelligence to him.? And besides, it was 
rude to speak in this manner. 

Berenice, accustomed as she was to the homage 
of men, to see them fighting for a place at her side, 
and for her favor, felt as though she had received 
a slap in the face. She, however, like most Roman 
ladies of her class, was gifted with self-possession ; 
but this vicious retort, filled with utter contempt, 
did more than prick her pride. It caused a pain 
in her heart that was hard for her to analyze. 
She opened her mouth to give him the answer with 
which she was always ready; however, biting her 
lip, she turned away without saying a word. 

Onesimus, realizing his mistake and fearing her 
anger, felt that he should appease her wrath and 
thus prevent any possibility of her going to her 
father with what he had said. With a few quick 
strides he was again at the girl’s side. 

“ Come back, I pray thee, and let me explain to 
thee my hasty words,” he said. 

Together they returned to the stem of the ves- 


214 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


sel, which was now rolling heavily as the sea was 
momentarily growing rougher. Onesimus took 
Berenice’s arm to steady her, and was surprised 
to notice that she shivered as though with the cold. 
When they reached their place at the stern he said : 

“ I trust thou wilt forgive me those hasty words. 
I have suffered so much through the duplicity of 
others, and the cruelty of the policy of the Roman 
government, that at times when my mind takes me 
again through these horrors, I nearly lose my ha- 
bitual self-control. When first I looked into thy 
face I thought I saw in thy heart and soul quali- 
ties not possessed by the average Roman lady of 
to-day. Strange thoughts flashed through my 
mind, and I lost momentarily the reticence which 
usually marks my words, and covers this part of 
my life. I spoke of my mission to Nero, scarcely 
realizing that I was talking to a stranger. In- 
voluntarily thou didst inspire my confidence, and it 
seemed that I had known thee for years. Then 
there flashed through my brain the thought that 
thou wert one of Rome’s aristocracy, and a mem- 
ber of the house of one who in a way was indirectly 
partly responsible for my downfall, and I forgot 
myself and in the heat of my passion, seeing only 
my past shame and suffering, I spoke words which 
I would give all I possess to recall. I believe, 
however, I can trust thee and will some time tell 
thee to what I refer, and then perhaps thou wilt 
not judge me so harshly.” 

“ I am glad thou hast spoken,” Berenice replied. 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


215 


quietly. “ When first I saw thee standing here I 
felt as though an unseen hand was drawing me to- 
ward thee, and when my curiosity could stand the 
strain no longer I approached thee and drew thee 
from thyself, so I alone am responsible for thy 
words, which I assure thee I shall repeat to no one, 
so there is cause for no uneasiness on thy part,” 
she continued. 

“ May the gods bless thee,” he said, as they 
turned towards the cabin. 


CHAPTER X 


When Onesimus had assisted Berenice to the 
cabin he returned again to the deck, as he feared 
the approach of a storm, and in event of a wreck 
there were no provisions made for saving those on 
board. These things Onesimus had noted since he 
began to fear for the safety of the ship. He had 
no more than reached the deck than the image of 
Athene, which was carried at the top of the flag- 
staff, fell near him with a great crash, it having 
become loosened by the parting of a rope. As 
soon as the sailors saw the image of the protecting 
deity lying shattered and broken on the deck, 
they forsook their places of duty, crying that they 
were lost and that the gods had forsaken them. 
Then all was confusion for a time and the officers 
had a hard task to reassure them. They offered 
up sacrifices to the gods, and poured out a special 
libation to Zeus, the protector, and to Poseidon, 
the ruler of the seas. 

Onesimus found some timbers and planks lashed 
near the stern. Securing a quantity of rope, he 
carried it to the stem of the ship, where he went 
to work constructing a raft, under the greatest 
difficulties. 


216 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


ai7 

When the raft was finished he lashed it securely 
to the ship to prevent its being carried overboard 
by the waves he thought would be breaking over 
the vessel before morning. It was a crude affair 
and he surveyed it critically and with misgivings, 
but it was the best that could be done under such 
difficulties and with the material at hand, and 
would be the only hope in case the ship found- 
ered. 

“ I wonder how long that frail thing will stand 
between us and death,” Onesimus said to himself, 
as he made his way to the cabin. 

When he sought his berth, sleep forsook him 
and the needed rest to assist him on the morrow 
was not his. 

After a short time Onesimus, being unable to 
sleep longer, arose and made his way with diffi- 
culty to the cabin, which was lighted with a glim- 
mering lamp hanging low from the ceiling. The 
tossing and pitching of the ship kept the lamp 
swinging first one way and then another, casting 
ghostlike shadows here and there. The light had 
burned low, making things barely discernible in 
the room, which was filled with a foul smelling odor 
from the lamp. 

Onesimus went to the window and looked out; 
his piercing eyes, however, could discern nothing 
in the darkness. No star was to be seen, as night 
had not yet raised her mantle of deepest darkness 
from over the sea. Down in that hell hole to the 
slaves, Onesimus fancied he saw them, as un- 


S18 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


doubtedly they were, chained to their benches, some 
cursing the gods for their plight, while others 
cried at the cruelty of the officers who could chain 
them to die like rats in a trap, should the ship go 
down as they believed it would. 

Onesimus sat in the dim light and waited pa- 
tiently for the dawn. The ship creaked and 
groaned as though in pain, as it rolled from side to 
side, laboring with the rough and heaving sea. 
He dropped to sleep as he waited, and when he 
was awakened by a touch on his arm and sprang 
to his feet it was light and the ship was rolling 
heavily. It was Berenice who had awakened him. 
He could see that it was with an effort that she 
appeared calm. 

“ What thinkest thou about the ship ? ” she said. 

“ I haven’t had time to think since I awoke, but 
I feel as I did yesterday, that we might well wish 
ourselves safe ashore,” he replied. 

The officers had given orders for all to remain 
inside, as the ship was rolling heavily in the trough 
of a very rough and rising sea. 

Onesimus, being uneasy about the raft he had 
constructed the night before, decided that he 
would go and see if it had withstood the tremen- 
dous seas that now and then flooded her decks with 
savage sweep, carrying everything movable with it 
into the sea by its avalanche of water. Leaving 
Berenice, he made his way with difficulty to the 
stern of the ship and found the raft was still safely 
secured as he had left it. As he returned to the 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


ai9 

cabin he was met by Orlando Florus, who informed 
him that the ship was taking water faster than the 
pumps could take it out. 

“ A few more cubits of water below and the 
rowers will all be drowned, and what will we do, 
with the ship in no condition to use her sails should 
she weather this storm? ” he said. 

“ When this storm has passed, this ship will be 
a wreck and have no further need for sails or row- 
ers,” Onesimus replied. “ I would suggest that 
thou bestir thyself with thoughts as to thine own 
safety, instead of giving to worry concerning the 
ship and rowers after the storm is ended. The 
officers cannot help us ; they are working at a 
hopeless task, that of trying to save the ship, so 
it’s every man for himself,” Onesimus continued, 
as they made their way back to the cabin. 

The storm continued throughout the day, and 
late in the afternoon was at its height. When 
it became evident that the ship was doomed, a ter- 
rible scene was enacted. Over in one corner of 
the cabin there were gathered a small group of 
Christians, who, realizing that ere long they would 
pass over the dark river and meet their Master, 
were kneeling, praying to their God. Others were 
crying and wringing their hands in a piteous way, 
calling to the only gods they had known for de- 
liverance. Some, with the more cowardly natures, 
cursed the heathen gods for their desertion in this 
hour of need. Some women and men were almost 
crazed with fright, and were raving and tearing 


2S0 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


their hair in madness, as they realized full well that 
death, with all of the horrors of a wreck in a wild 
and raging storm, far out at sea, awaited them. 
Onesimus, knowing not the true God, gave himself 
not up to prayer, and being not a coward he did 
not give up in despair. 

A few hours before dark the wind died down 
considerably and the sea became less troubled, when 
they could go about with greater ease and safety, 
whereas, a few hours before, they were not per- 
mitted outside of the cabin, but the ship was in 
such condition that she was expected momentarily 
to sink. 

While the passengers were huddled together in 
terror-stricken groups, a monster sea swept the 
vessel, carrying with it the two masts with which 
the vessel was equipped, these having become very 
much weakened by the constant strain and the 
parting of some of the backstays. 

As the masts went over, the rigging still holding 
caused a heavy list to starboard, with the rail 
awash, and the water pouring in torrents into the 
oar ports. Above the wailing of the wind and 
roar of the sea could be heard the cries and curses 
of the drowning slaves, who were chained to their 
benches in the awful hole of darkness and death, 
now fast filling with water. 

Onesimus realized that the time for prompt ac- 
tion on his part had arrived, and hastily explain- 
ing to Orlando Florus his plan for saving them- 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


221 


selves, he made his way aft, leaving Florus to as- 
sist Berenice to the stern of the vessel, where the 
raft was. The ship was even yet tossing and 
pitching in a way that made work not only very 
difficult, but actually dangerous, as there was the 
prospect of being washed overboard as an occa- 
sional large wave washed the ship. The rail near 
the stern had been smashed by the masts and rig- 
ging when they fell some time before, so that the 
work of getting the raft into the sea was more 
easily accomplished. 

Imploring Palagmon ^ for success in his efforts 
to save this girl and her father from so terrible 
a death as he knew awaited those huddled in help- 
less terror and confusion in the cabin, Onesimus 
first tied a long rope to the raft and made the 
other end fast to the ship, so it would not be lost 
when it was finally launched. He then tied three 
life lines to the raft, and these he also made fast 
to the ship, for they must have some sure means 
of gaining the raft after it and themselves were 
at last in the sea, for with such a sea as was now 
running there was no certainty that they could 
make their w^ay to the raft, and one or all of them 
might be drowned in the undertaking. 

When this was done Onesimus began to work 
the raft towards the starboard side, which had 

1 Palaemon, the Greek god of the sea, held powerful to 
save from shipwreck, who was always invoked by sailors in 
time of danger. 




ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


risen slightly but was even now very near the 
water. He had little difficulty in getting the raft 
to the side and was soon gratified in seeing it slide 
into the sea, as the ship rolled in the trough of the 
wave. The raft floated away until hauled to by 
the rope, where it waited for those whom it was 
destined to carry to safety. 

Not seeing Florus and Berenice, Onesimus made 
his way towards the cabin, where he met them in 
an endeavor to gain the stern of the vessel. 
Florus was barely able to proceed alone, but en- 
cumbered with Berenice he was making poor head- 
way. 

“ Leave Berenice here, and make thy way to the 
stern; she can remain in safety until my return, 
when I will assist her,” said Onesimus, as he hur- 
ried back to the cabin, where he secured a bottle 
of unmixed wine. He then returned to where 
Berenice was waiting for him. They made their 
way with difficulty, between the huge waves that 
occasionally swept the ship, to the stem, where 
Florus was waiting them, clinging to fragments 
of the poop deck that had defied the force of the 
waves. 

Loosening one of the life lines he had prepared, 
Onesimus hastily tied it around Florus’ body just 
under his arms, telling him to jump into the sea 
and pull himself aboard the raft by means of the 
rope. Florus hesitated, as it looked like suicide 
to jump into that seething water. 

“ Jump, or thou art lost,” Onesimus shouted to 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


22S 


him as he busied himself with adjusting the re- 
maining life lines to Berenice and himself. When 
this was done he turned to her and said : 

“We must jump for our lives, as the vessel has 
but a short time to stay afloat.” 

“ But my father. He will not take the risk of 
leaping into those roaring waters,” she said. 

“ The risk must be taken,” Onesimus said, as 
he went to Florus’ side. “ The ship is sinking 
and we must take our chances with yonder raft, 
or drown. The line around thee is fast to the raft, 
pull thyself aboard,” he said, as he picked Florus 
up and threw him bodily into the sea. Returning 
to Berenice, he said: 

“ Now we must follow thy father, as there is 
no time to lose.” 

Taking his knife he severed the rope which se- 
cured the raft to the ship, and had barely time 
to clasp Berenice in his arms and leap into the 
sea, as the raft was carried rapidly away by the 
wind and waves as soon as released from the ship. 

Berenice gave a scream as they plunged into the 
cold dark sea. It seemed as though she were go- 
ing to instant death, yet she trusted this brave 
stranger and now lay still in his embrace while 
he worked desperately to pull themselves to the 
raft, which they reached after what seemed an age 
to him, burdened with the now apparently lifeless 
form of the girl. 

When the ship plunged beneath the water they 
were but a short distance from it, and were caught 


224 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


in the edge of the vortex and carried down. Ber- 
enice felt the water filling her ears until it seemed 
as though they would burst. She thought they 
were sinking down, down to the very bottom of the 
sea. She soon realized an intense pain in her 
lungs, which increased as they continued to go 
down, as though she were held in the pitiless grip 
of some iron monster. She began to review her 
past life, and old scenes and friends came again 
to her; again she was a little girl, and in a swift 
procession there passed before her incidents of her 
early life that she had quite forgotten. Now she 
w^as standing at the stem of the ship talking to 
that handsome stranger who had so fascinated her; 
she could hear his voice ringing in her ears, until 
everything faded from her and she lost conscious- 
ness. The events of years had flitted through her 
mind during the few moments while they were go- 
ing down, but the life line held, and Onesimus was 
soon able to reach the raft, where Berenice’s 
father was waiting to assist them. The wind had 
ceased and the sea was subsiding miraculously, and 
the stillness of death already prevailed. Where 
a short time before there had been a foaming, hiss- 
ing sea, there was now a heavy swell which ap- 
peared like a sea covered with a coating of oil. 

After the vessel went down there was heard for 
a time the cries of the drowning ones that had 
escaped being carried down with the ship, only to 
meet death a few minutes later. 

As Onesimus gained the raft his first thought 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


225 


was to revive Berenice. His strong arm raised 
her, and placing the bottle of wine to her lips, he 
forced some of the liquid down her throat. She 
shuddered and opened her eyes, then she settled 
back in his embrace and closed them again. One- 
simus passed the bottle to Florus. 

“ A drink of it will do thee good at such a time 
as this,” he said, as Florus took the bottle. 

When at last Berenice opened her eyes the sky 
had cleared, and a full moon was shedding down 
on them its kindly light. As she looked up she 
met the eyes of Onesimus peering into hers as 
though to read her dreams while asleep as well as 
her thoughts while waking. A slight blush over- 
spread her face, as she freed herself and sat up. 

“ What is to become of us, father.^ ” said Ber- 
enice. 

“ The gods only know whether this will end by 
our being picked up by some passing ship, or by 
our going to the bottom of the sea,” he replied. 

“ The sky has cleared and the sea, you will no- 
tice, has became calm, so that we stand a good 
chance of floating for some time, unless the wind 
should rise again, so do not let thy mind trouble 
thee on that point,” said Onesimus. 


CHAPTER XI 


Morning dawned at last, and never were the 
warm rays of the sun received with more welcome 
than by these three shivering castaways. Bere- 
nice was chilled through and on the verge of de- 
spair; her father, evidently worn out from the 
strain and loss of sleep, was dozing, while Onesimus 
sat like a statue looking away into the distance, 
while he mentally implored the gods to send a ship 
their way. Occasionally he turned a haggard 
face backward and to either side, but the same 
sight continually met his gaze. As the sun 
climbed higher into the heavens their clothing dried 
and they, for the first time since the beginning of 
the storm, were comfortable as far as warmth was 
concerned. Their limbs, however, ached from the 
constant strain of remaining so long in one posi- 
tion. 

Berenice herself spent most of the time gazing 
over the sea, hoping that as each time their raft 
was raised with the swell, she would see that most 
welcome sight, a sail. 

A terrible sense of loneness and oppression pos- 
sessed her, as she thought of the dangers of their 
position, and the horrible death that was inevitable 
in case they were not soon picked up by some 
passing ship. 


226 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


m 

Finally she dropped into a troubled sleep before 
the sun told them it was mid-day, while Onesimus 
sat as before, with eyes riveted on the horizon, 
looking for the ship that he felt fate would surely 
send to their rescue. 

Occasionally he let his eyes wander from their 
mission to the beautiful face turned towards him, 
when he felt again the awakening of new hopes and 
emotions. 

Night found them still hoping against hope. 
The air was bright and clear, the water shining 
and glimmering with all the brightness of a per- 
fect full moon, and nearly as light as day. While 
Berenice and her father slept, Onesimus kept 
watch, with haggard eyes, weary from lack of 
sleep and fatigue of continually gazing out over 
the shining desert of the ocean. 

“ The gods be praised, there’s a ship ! ” cried 
Onesimus, and Bernice and her father, awakened 
by his cry, sat up, and to their joy there was the 
light of a ship bearing down rapidly upon them. 

“ Does the ship display a flag? ” said Florus. 

“ There is none that I can see,” replied Onesi- 
mus. 

The ship was now so near them that they could 
hear the oars as they rose and fell, bringing the 
galley in a direct line toward them, which meant 
death to them could they not soon attract the at- 
tention of the lookout. 

Onesimus shouted, but with no apparent results. 
At last, when it seemed there would surely be a col- 


228 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


lision between their frail craft and the onrushing 
ship, they could clearly make out a man standing 
at the bow who had evidently seen or heard them, 
for he turned and gave some order, and almost 
immediately every oar was raised and poised in 
the air, then every one dropped straight into the 
water as though all were manned by one arm. A 
moment more, and they were all raised again, but 
instead of dropping as before, they were all car- 
ried to the stem and pushed forward, causing a 
rushing and boiling of the water which sounded 
like a waterfall. Several times this was repeated, 
when the ship hove to with scarcely a motion save 
that caused by the swell, and but a short distance 
from the raft. A number of people now appeared 
at the rail of the vessel and soon a boat was low- 
ered over her side, which took the castaways from 
their perilous position. 

When they were landed safely on deck of the 
vessel, Berenice and her father were so stiff and 
sore from remaining so long in their cramped po- 
sition that they could hardly walk, and had to be 
assisted to their berths, where they were soon 
wrapped in warm blankets and furnished with hot 
drinks. 

The sun was high the next morning when Onesi- 
mus appeared on deck. A light breeze was blow- 
ing, just capping the tips of the waves with a sil- 
very foam. The sky was clear and the radiant 
freshness of the air was as a tonic to his mind. 

Berenice, arrayed in clothes shrunken and 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


229 


wrinkled, showing all too plainly the effects of the 
drenching they had had in the sea, soon came out 
on deck, and, seeing Onesimus, hastened to him. 

“ Knowest thou for what port this ship is 
bound? ” she said. 

“ The officers tell me their destination is Rome. 
They left Alexandria the day after our unfortu- 
nate ship sailed, and did not encounter the storm 
that wrecked us.” 

It was with a feeling of great relief that Bere- 
nice first sighted the long stretches of the quay, 
where were moored many craft, ranging in class 
from the warrior trireme to the little fishing punts. 

As they approached nearer Onesimus gazed with 
interest at the heterogeneous mass assembled at 
the quay. Rome seemed to attract representa- 
tives from every land, which included also many of 
the lower class, as well as slaves in great num- 
bers ; also many freedmen. The drift from many 
lands collected at this great port, from the fair- 
haired Norsemen to the sinewy Mede of the East; 
from the war-like Gaul on the west to the huge 
complacent Ethiopian with his shining black face, 
who came from the mysterious and ancient coun- 
try to the south of the cataract of the Nile. 

As the ship drew up to the landing, ropes were 
thrown to waiting attendants on the quay, and 
soon the vessel was made fast. 

Onesimus was somewhat uneasy when it came 
time to go ashore, but the landing of their party 


230 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


attracted no more attention than would any other 
new comer. 

As soon as they were free from the rabble at 
the landing, Berenice’s father insisted upon Onesi- 
mus accompanying them to their home, where a 
suite of rooms was set apart for his use, while he 
was received as an honored guest. 


CHAPTER XII 


The sun was just peeping over the housetops 
as it entered his window, which overlooked the 
city, when Onesimus awoke. His mind continually 
held before him the face of Berenice, and he has- 
tened to the garden, hoping to find her there, 
where they could have a quiet hour by themselves 
before the morning meal. The garden lay on the 
east side of the house. Here was a garden, the 
magnificence of which was the envy of many of 
Rome’s aristocracy, and excelled nowhere in the 
city, rivaling even the Imperial Gardens, and being 
inferior to them only in size. There had been 
transplanted here many beautiful tropical plants 
and flowers, every variety of tree and shrub ; the 
delicate ferns, creepers of the vale and dell, were 
here protected from the heat of the sun by the 
cypress and cedars, and these in turn were guarded 
by the wide spreading branches of the stately elm, 
with here and there that foe of the fever, the tall, 
magnificent eucalyptus. White walks led here 
and there through the leafy bowers, perfumed with 
myriads of roses and beautiful flowers. 

Onesimus strolled through the garden, down 
spacious terraces with stone steps, past fountains 
where silvery sprays of water rose and fell with a 
merry tinkling into large marble basins, where 
231 


2S2 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


darted, like rays of sunlight, beautiful gold-sided 
fish. In the distance could be seen statuary and 
marble seats in the cool shade of the trees. The 
sunlight playing upon their foliage made many 
haunts of soft shadows, more inviting because of 
the perfume of a wall of roses which encircled the 
nearby fountain. He wandered on till he came 
to a serene little lake, unruffled by the gentle 
breeze that just stirred the leaves overhead, on 
the mirror-like surface of which floated a number 
of graceful Egyptian swans. She whom he sought 
was not to be found, and with lowering spirits he 
dropped into a seat which was almost obscured by 
a mass of roses that had grown up and fallen par- 
tially over it. The perfume and beauty of it all 
overpowered him and drew his thoughts from him ; 
soon he was traveling the wonderful paths of 
dreamland, into whose mysteries we all have peered, 
and the paths of entry we know not of. 

Soon he was aroused from his reverie by some 
one approaching with a song on her lips from the 
opposite side of the bower that overhung his seat. 
Out of the soft shadowy depths of the garden she 
came, into the sunlight at the edge of the lake, and 
on around towards him. Looking up she saw him 
and advanced to where he sat. Her hair was 
hanging in unrestrained profusion; the color of 
her face was heightened by the exercise of her early 
morning walk; the scarlet lips, the beauty of her 
eyes, and the exquisite grace of her form that 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


23S 


showed to such advantage under the clinging folds 
of the silken filmy material that enveloped her, held 
him spellbound. He arose to meet her and held 
out both hands as she came up to him. She 
seemed not to notice his proffered hands and with- 
out speaking sat down, and motioned him to a seat 
at her side. 

“ Why art thou here at this hour ? ” she asked 
him. 

“ I beg thy pardon, if I have intruded into thy 
private garden,” he replied. 

“No, I was not offended at thy presence, only 
I had not expected to see thee here,” she made 
reply. 

Her eyes rested upon his face as she spoke, and 
as he raised his eyes to meet the look that he could 
feel, his pulse quickened and leaped with sudden 
bounds which sent the blood rushing in torrents 
through his heart, almost suffocating him. Her 
hands were folded in her lap, white and beautiful 
against the tinted folds of her robe. Her eyes 
dropped to the ground as she spoke. 

“ Hast thou censured me for the way I have 
neglected to thank thee for the life that thou didst 
take from the sinking ship and gave to me? I 
should have told thee before how, from the bottom 
of my heart, I thank thee, and that I realize that 
words may seem but poor reward for such risk 
and bravery as was displayed by thee for my fa- 
ther’s and my sake. Thou hast but to ask any 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


234 * 

favor possible to my father and he will grant it.” 

“ Thou doest me a wrong if thou dost think that 
I could accept such a reward as thou speakest of. 
I simply did my duty as I saw it, and that is no 
more than any man would do, and I believe that 
there are a great many here in this city who would 
endure greater hardships and risk even greater 
dangers to win thy smile and favor,” said Onesi- 
mus. 

“ If thy efforts in our behalf had not been 
prompted by a desire to do thy duty to thy fellow- 
men, wouldst thou have risked so much just for my 
smile ? ” replied Berenice, with a tender and be- 
witching sweetness in her voice and a faint smile 
upon her lips. 

“ Dost thou presume that one whose only heri- 
tage is sadness and sorrow, and whose condition in 
life gave no hopes for happiness and contentment, 
after finding that which every human heart has 
sought for, would not risk even greater dangers 
for thy smile? ” 

‘‘ And what is this thing thou hast found? ” said 
Berenice softly. 

“ Some call it love and happiness, but for me it 
may be pain, for she is pure and fair, and because 
her father is great and wealthy I may not woo and 
win her, though she has taught me to love her as 
few women have been loved before.” 

“ And wilt thou tell me of this great sorrow 
which hast clouded thy life? ” 

Onesimus arose and paced back and forth for a 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 2S5 

time in deep thought, then resumed his seat and 
said : 

“ At one time my father, a respected and 
wealthy senator, dwelt in Rome. One evening as 
he sat with his wife and only child, a boy of twelve, 
a messenger came with that common, though ter- 
rible, message from the Emperor telling him that 
he must prepare to die. 

“ As thou knowest, when the Emperor takes a 
dislike to any one he will find some excuse for con- 
demning him. 

“ As it is considered more honorable by public 
men to resort to self-destruction than to be exe- 
cuted, this concession was usually extended them. 

“ He calmly made preparations for terminating 
his life. He gathered his friends about him to give 
them his parting counsels and bid them farewell. 
After bidding his wife and little boy farewell he 
directed his physicians to open his veins. 

“ Then followed one of those sad and heart rend- 
ing scenes of death and mourning which filled my 
childish heart with bitterness and hate towards 
those in authority, and left sad scenes engraved 
upon my memory that have filled my life with sor- 
row. 

“ When I was yet young, on some pretext the 
Emperor confiscated all of the vast estates left 
by my father, and soon after my mother passed 
into a decline and died. I drifted from one place 
to another; won honors at school and in the 
Olympic games, then joined the army and was cap- 


S36 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


tured in battle and sold into slavery, where I was 
placed on board a galley ship, from which I es- 
caped.” 

Berenice sat lost in thought for a time, then 
said : 

“ Because Rome is heartless and cruel, because 
she hath cruelly wronged thee and made thee to 
suffer, hast thou lost thy chivalrous spirit that 
should lead one onward to conquer, for only in this 
way can victory be attained. 

“ Because it was her lot to be born of wealthy 
parents wilt thou go away and leave her unheard.^ 
Dost thou know her heart.? ” said Berenice ten- 
derly, with tears in her eyes. 

In a moment Onesimus was on his knees at her 
feet, holding in his strong hands those delicate, 
small white ones, which she held out to him, and 
which now throbbed and pulsated with every beat 
of her heart that was sending her blood with leaps 
and bounds through every part of her being. 
Then he loosened her hands, dropped his head, 
and shut his eyes a moment as though to shield 
himself from her radiant beauty, and momentarily 
there flashed through his mind the thought, “ was 
she not of Rome’s aristocracy, and was she not of 
the house of one of those in power in Rome, and 
was it not those in power that were responsible 
for the downfall of his whole household.? ” Then 
he became aware of her fragrant nearness, and he 
realized that she was leaning over him; he felt 
her hands on his shoulders, her warm breath on his 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


237 


face, and the delicate perfume of her robe and hair 
seemed drawing him away from himself. He 
glanced up and saw two beautiful eyes, crowned 
with lovely brows, brimming with pearly tears, 
which seemed to plead with him for his love. If 
she was a Roman, and as false as Nero, she was as 
beautiful as the rosy dawn of this lovely morning. 
His lonely heart craved and pleaded for the love 
of this beautiful girl, though his head fought 
against it. He could not think, for he had become 
bewildered by her fragrant loveliness. At last, 
overpowered and completely enthralled by his love 
for her, he rose to his feet and as he did so he 
grasped her flexible body in his arms and raised 
her from the bench and strained her to his heart. 
She realized that this was what her heart had 
longed for and she lay with her head on his shoul- 
der for a moment, then struggled like a frightened 
child to free herself. Onesimus freed one hand and 
raised her head so that he could look into her 
lovely flushed face, and said, as he kissed her for 
the first time: 

“ Why dost thou shrink from me when thou 
must know that I love thee with my whole heart ; 
my whole life has been one long period of sor- 
row, and now, after drawing me from myself and 
forcing these words from my lips, thou surely wilt 
not condemn me to wander alone through this cold, 
cruel world ” 

She gave a little sigh and for a few moments lay 
still in his arms, her head dropping again to his 


238 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


shoulder. Soon she raised it, and as their eyes 
met she said : 

“ I loved thee from the first moment I saw thee, 
though I knew it not ; when thou didst arise to the 
emergency and so bravely risked thy life for my 
father and myself, I began to realize that I loved 
thee, but I did not care to admit it, for my father 
has other plans for my future and I did not wish 
to disappoint him. Fate willed otherwise, for 
when I heard thy sad story I longed more than 
ever before for thy love and the right to try to 
make thee happy, that thus I might do what I 
could to help Rome atone for the shameful way 
in which thou hast been treated.” 

When Berenice had finished she raised her lips 
to his face, and after one long, lingering kiss they 
returned to the house. 


CHAPTER XIII 


The afternoon was well advanced when a chariot 
drawn by the well matched, magnificent steeds of. 
Orlando Florus halted before Nero’s wonderful 
palace, where Florus and Onesimus were met by a 
detachment of guards and escorted through beau- 
tiful grounds to the Imperial palace, which was 
surrounded by a garden of rare and surpassing 
beauty. 

Their escort conducted them through a large 
fore-court, surrounded by a triple colonnade, to a 
large and beautiful atrium where they were given 
seats to await the Emperor’s pleasure. The at- 
rium was paved in intricate designs of beautifully 
colored marble. In the center was a fountain, 
which seemed to be throwing into the sunlight, 
shining through the compluvium, tinkling streams 
of molten gold. Rare plants and beautiful flowers 
surrounded the fountain, the perfume of which was 
wafted to Onesimus and Florus by the gentle 
breeze of the beautiful morning, as they sat en- 
joying the magnificence of the place. Arranged 
along the walls of the atrium were masterpieces 
of the world’s best sculptors, in both marble and 
bronze. Surrounding the fountain in a circle were 
eight beautiful Ionic columns. In a short time 


240 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


they were conducted through an adjoining room 
to one of the many private rooms of the palace. 
At the entrance of the room the servant stepped 
to one side, drawing the heavy silken curtains 
apart as he did so, and bade Onesimus and Florus 
enter, as Nero awaited them. 

The room into which they had been ushered was 
a marvel of beauty and luxury. It was finished 
with marble linings and mosaics. The ceiling and 
the walls were decorated with delicate stucco re- 
liefs, while the floor was of the richest Oriental 
marble of the most brilliant colors and highly pol- 
ished. From golden brackets on the walls hung 
beautifully wrought lamps of silver and gold. The 
room was also adorned with rare paintings, and 
several small pieces of statuary. The magnifi- 
cence of the room, where so much of wealth, splen- 
dor and beauty were displayed, was truly marvel- 
ous. 

Nero advanced to meet them, leading them to 
seats behind a cancelli,^ of that rare and beautiful 
Phrygium marble.^ Here they were screened from 
the view of any one entering or passing the win- 
dow. 

The young Emperor was richly attired, but not 
with the diadem and purple of his rank. 

“ Most noble lord, I bring one, Onesimus, who 

1 Cancelli : a lattice work or grating. 

2 Marmor Phrygium, or Synnadicum from Synnada in 
Phrygia, is a slightly translucent marble, with rich purple 
markings, violet merging on red. It was fabled to be 
stained with the blood of Atys. 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE Ml 

brings a letter from the Governor of Alexandria, 
recommending his plan, which will, if carried out, 
make thy name to shine out through the mists 
of centuries and ages yet to come, more brightly 
than any of the great kings of the past,” said 
Florus. 

After reading the letter, Nero said: 

“ Thou art welcome, Florus, and thy friend 
Onesimus, and I would hear what it is he has to 
say.” 

“ Some time ago, as I was traveling with a cara- 
van from Tingis in Mauretania, in a southeasterly 
direction, I noticed that after we had passed to the 
south of Tingitana that the farther east we went 
the more sure and certain became the signs of the 
country at one time having been blest with lakes 
and rivers. Another thing that attracted my at- 
tention was the condition of the country through 
which we passed, it being very low to the west. 
We passed over what had evidently, at one time, 
been water courses, with here and there deep ero- 
sion of the rocks that in some places formed the 
banks of what at one time must have been rivers. 
In other localities we found places which had all 
the appearance of having in the past been lakes 
and inland seas, with vast tracts of water-worn 
pebbles. We found the remains of sea monsters, 
and what looked like the remains of crocodiles. 
These, together with a great many other things 
that I observed on the journey, gave me the belief 
that at one time a great deal of that now dreary 


242 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


waste of country was covered with inland seas, 
lakes and rivers. If it once was, then, my lord 
Nero can most certainly make it so again. 

“ With thy power and resources I believe a 
water way could be cut from the south of Tingi- 
tana, eastward through the low country there, 
which would cause a vast area of that now dan- 
gerous waste of sand-plains to be flooded. The 
water would find its way through those dried-up 
water courses and empty lakes, which would change 
the country into as fertile a region as the valley 
of the Nile. Where now there is only a vast waste 
of sand, there would then be great fields and flocks, 
and countless numbers of date palms and grapes. 
If thou will carry out this plan the myriads of 
mounds of sand, the irritating yellow of the 
plains, and a great deal of the heat, and above all, 
the boundless immensity of the unexplored Libyan 
desert, will be settled with a happy, loyal, and 
thankful people. 

“ The monotonous and ever shifting sand-plains 
will all be converted into prolific fields and vine- 
yards. Where now no blade of grass is ever seen, 
then would verdant pastures and fragrant flowers 
grow. Now, no drop of water is there to appease 
the thirst of the weary travelers, along the river 
no currents move, and no boats are seen. Then, 
Sire, all would be changed. The barren, death- 
dealing plains will be teeming with herds of count- 
less numbers. This is a wonderfully fertile coun- 
try, as thou knowest from the way things will grow 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


243 


in the oases of the desert. What will it be then, 
when everything is changed? The water courses 
cooling the atmosphere, with the evaporation, will 
make a great change in the climate as well. Canst 
thou imagine the vast amount of revenue this coun- 
try would bring into thy treasury? And, above 
all, thy name, the name of Nero, will go down 
through all of the ages to come, not only as the 
greatest Emperor, but as the one having accom- 
plished the most gigantic undertaking ever con- 
ceived by man, also as having done more for the 
world than any king or country. The building of 
the pyramids, great cities and temples of the past 
would appear as the work of children. The Laby- 
rinth will appear as a child’s playhouse, and Lake 
Moeris, a boy’s fishpond, when compared to this 
stupendous work. 

‘‘ If it is thy wish, thou canst complete a work, 
the like of which the world has never dreamed. 
The people will say, ‘ Nero is supreme, Nero rules 
the world and what he wills and undertakes comes 
to pass with more certainty than though willed by 
the gods.’ 

“ Sire, if centuries ago Amenemhat in upper 
Egypt could make a great lake, and construct a 
gigantic system of irrigation in the Fayoum, with 
great canals extending from Beni-Soeuf to the 
shores of the Mediterranean, then of a certainty 
Nero can do this thing of which I have told thee.” 

“ Thou hast conceived of a most daring and 
wonderfully gigantic undertaking, Onesimus, and 


S44 ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 

I will present it to the Senate, for at this time I 
doubt the wisdom of attempting such a thing with- 
out their full sanction. Should the work be un- 
dertaken, I would be pleased to see that thy in- 
terests are well taken care of. And, in any event, 
Nero will not forget thy kindness in bringing to 
him thy plans,” said the Emperor as he arose, and 
they were dismissed. 


CHAPTER XIV 


Onesimus and Florus rode home very much 
pleased with the prospects for the success of the 
plan. 

“ Thy name will be greatest, next to Nero,” 
said Florus, as they alighted at the door, where 
they were met by Berenice. 

“ Come for a walk in the garden, Onesimus,” she 
said, “ I am so anxious to learn of thy visit to 
Nero.” 

Arm in arm they were soon wending their way 
through this garden of paradise. They made their 
way slowly as Onesimus related his interview, un- 
til they reached that beautiful spot he had visited 
that morning, where he led her to the same seat 
they had occupied at that time. 

As they sat there, Onesimus felt a strange 
homesickness creeping over him. He was again 
traveling backward into the cruel vicissitudes of the 
past. His thoughts dwelt wistfully upon his by- 
gone youth, the youth that had perished forever. 
Then, as his mind led him to the breaking up of 
his once happy home, as he was emerging from 
youth into manhood, his eyes filled with tears and 
his heart with hate. 


245 


246 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


Berenice watched the changes of his face, which 
was illuminated by the now setting sun. The 
leaves of the trees, as they swayed in the gentle 
breeze, now and then chased away the golden rays 
of the sinking sun, that at times lingered on his 
curly head, which was resting on his hand, with 
his elbow on his knee. That hand, which should 
have been soft and white, showed large, knotted 
veins and powerful sinews underneath the skin, 
made brown by toil and exposure. It looked 
strong and violent. She noticed also, as the 
glories of the setting sun lingered on the side of 
his face, that even with this added beauty of color- 
ing, the faint lines near his mouth looked deeper 
than ever before, and now suggested most puis- 
santly the heart-rending dreariness of his long con- 
tinued suffering. Under the influence of the hour, 
surrounded and screened from all passers-by 
by the wall of roses which impregnated the air 
with their overpowering fragrance, Berenice felt 
her heart growing soft within her. She began to 
realize more deeply that she loved this stranger of 
whose history she knew so little. The silent flood 
of passion which had been a latent force within 
her was now released. She understood now why 
she was drawn towards him on the ship. It was 
because she loved him. Everything within her 
loved him. She saw the past in a dim haze, and 
vaguely wondered how she had lived so long with- 
out his love ; that should he beckon or call to her. 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


Ml 

she would calmly and happily follow where he 
might lead, that she would be willing to share his 
lonely life and his poverty. She now cared naught 
for wealth, or social position; she forgot, under 
the influence of his presence, all that might have 
been hers. She was suddenly aroused by Onesi- 
mus raising his head. He looked into her shining 
eyes, and as he gazed into their liquid depths he 
read there both sympathy and love. A moment he 
gazed at her. Then he said : 

“ Rome hath robbed me of everything. First 
it was my father and mother, then everything 
which my father left me was confiscated, and I, 
a child, young and friendless, was sent forth into 
the cruel world almost an exile, which resulted in 
my being made a galley slave, which I would be at 
this moment had I not escaped, and now, to crown 
it all, thou, a Roman, hast confiscated my heart, 
for I love thee with a depth and purity that I 
never dreamed possible.” 

Berenice nestled close to him, as she slipped her 
hands into his great strong ones, and said : 

“ These things I cannot give thee back, but my 
life shall be thine. Where thou dost beckon, there 
will I go. Then wilt not my friendship for a life- 
time, crowned with the whole love of my heart, 
a love that is as life to me, a love that hath been 
kept for thee alone, compensate thee in a meas- 
ure for the cruelty and wrong done thee by 
Rome? ” 


248 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


Onesimus held her hands and gazed into her eyes 
for a time in silence, then said : 

“ Berenice, thou art a jewel, and thy love is a 
rare prize. It has worked a remarkable change 
within me. The horror of the past seems melting 
away into an unpleasant dream, while the revenge, 
anger and hatred that filled my heart has been 
softened by the power of thy love.” 

His hands still held hers, though they did not 
move, except for the pulsations of his heart. 
Then he rose and clasping her to him in his strong 
embrace, she lost herself in the mystery and the 
wonder of human love and companionship. She 
thought what a marvelous thing this unseen force, 
love, is, and what a wonderful effect the presence 
or absence of it has on human life. 

Berenice raised her lips to his face, and he kissed 
her over and over again. 

As they walked slowly back to the house Ber- 
enice wondered at the narrowness of her life before 
Onesimus came into it. Every nerv^e’ and fiber 
of her being quivered with a new joy and under- 
standing. All the heart gates had been opened 
and the beautiful light of a new understanding was 
pouring in. She saw the little birds as they flitted 
here and there, and wondered why she had never 
before noticed how happy they seemed to be. The 
perfume of the flowers was sweeter than before, 
while the blossoms themselves she thought never 
looked so beautiful as now. They walked in 
silence, and as they drew near the house they met 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


249 


Elorus, who stopped and looked at his daughter, 
then said: 

“ Well, Berenice, I thought it would come to this 
from thy questions on the ship the day before the 
wreck. May Aphrodite and Eros bless thee, and 
make thee both happy,” he added, with his usual 
reticence, as he continued on his walk. 

Onesimus was living in a new world. There 
was such a complete change in his condition and 
the prospects for the future. Elorus, while he 
would like to have seen his daughter wedded to 
some nobleman, raised no objection to the coming 
marriage. 

The day before his departure Elorus met Onesi- 
mus in the garden, and said : 

“ The Senate met yesterday in an interesting 
session. Some were in favor of thy plan as out- 
lined to Nero, thinking it would greatly benefit 
Rome, both commercially and financially, while 
others held that it could not be done and that its 
failure would make their Emperor the ridicule of 
the world. Others still were satisfied that it could 
be carried to a successful issue, but feared it would 
bankrupt the nation, or, if the taxes were heavy 
enough to permit of its completion, that the people 
might revolt. 

“ Others pointed to the great benefit and reve- 
nue that would result from this new condition, 
while Nero was greatly elated over the glory that 
would come to him, and insisted that it be done. 

“ After much debate, the Senate declared in 


S50 ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 

favor of thj plan, but postponed further action, 
requesting thy presence, as some wish to question 
thee and verify these things as to the former condi- 
tion of the desert. The friendship and influence 
that will be thine for thy thoughtfulness in pre- 
senting thy plans first to Nero, together with thy 
marriage to Berenice, will make thee one of the 
most popular, as well as envied, young men in 
Rome.” 


CHAPTER XV 


The sun had passed the Tiber and was now sink- 
ing out of sight beyond the Mons Janiculus,^ and 
the splendid spectacle of color which a short time 
before had dazzled the eyes was now fast fading 
from the sky, and only an irregular line of dull 
red was left as a remnant of the glories of the 
departing day. 

As Onesimus strolled down the Subura, his at- 
tention was attracted by two men who were walk- 
ing in front of him, and talking in undertones, oc- 
casionally looking around as though afraid some 
one might hear what they were saying. They 
turned south, and Onesimus followed, little think- 
ing why. They continued on their way, paying 
little attention to, if, indeed, they noticed the fact 
that they were being followed. The men he was 
following soon entered a building near the Ex- 
cubitorium.^ Onesimus, when he came to the 
house, saw sitting within a strangely familiar fig- 

1 Mons Janiculus: A long ridge or hill opposite Rome, 
on the west bank of the Tiber. In places it rises to a 
height of 300 feet above the sea. It received its name from 
the tradition of Janus, King of the aborigines, who 
founded a city on the hill opposite the Capitoline, which 
was then occupied by Saturn. 

2 Excubitorium; A post where guards were stationed. 

251 


252 ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 

ure, with fettered hands, coupled to a guardsman. 

The person that had attracted his attention 
was small of stature, with a marked stoop of the 
shoulders. His long hair and beard were well 
sprinkled with gray. His face was pale, showing 
the effects of his suffering and imprisonment. He 
had bright, intelligent gray eyes, with meeting 
brows, and a prominent aquiline nose. 

Onesimus halted in front of the open doorway, 
when the object of his gaze, looking up, saw him 
and invited him to enter. Mechanically he obeyed. 
His mind was searching the records of the past in 
an endeavor to tell where he had known this man 
who now sat in chains before him. 

Suddenly Onesimus gave a start. “ No, it could 
not be,” he said to himself, yet this was the same 
kindly face, this man had the same grace and 
sweetness of address, and the same dignity and 
fire of bearing, even though fettered as he was; 
yes, this must be the same man that had pleaded 
so eloquently and earnestly for his master to be- 
come a Christian on that gala-day at Ephesus he 
remembered so well. 

Onesimus was familiar enough with the ways of 
the Christians to know that this man would never 
betray him, yet he felt uneasy when in the presence 
of one who knew that he had at one time been a 
slave, and in all probability his presence in Rome, 
dressed as he was, would indicate to him that he 
had escaped from his former master. 

“ The blessing and peace of the Lord Jesus 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


25S 


Christ be upon thee,” said the man, as he raised 
his fettered hands in benediction. “ Bringest thou 
news from Philemon, thy master? ” he added. 

“ From Philemon, my master,” Onesimus said 
blankly. His senses seemed to leave him and all 
of the old scenes and horrors began to come before 
him. Again he saw the old ship of torture, the 
long row of worn and suffering men ; he heard the 
thud, thud of the oars as the men rose and fell 
back in dreary monotony; again he heard the 
hoarse curses of the guards and the sound of the 
lash as it cut down on some bare defenseless back. 
He started and drew himself up suddenly, and he 
continued: “No, I have no news from him. I 
left him well at Colosse, when he sent me on my 
present errand.” 

Onesimus realized, from the pained look that 
came into his kindly eyes as he uttered this false- 
hood, that Paul knew, and perhaps he had even 
seen his master since he escaped. 

Paul offered him a seat, and he sat down, when 
their interrupted conversation was resumed. One- 
simus listened with apparent interest to reports of 
the work of Christ. He suddenly remembered 
some almost forgotten words of Paul, to his master 
at Ephesus. Unconsciously he felt an interest 
in the conversation and that unsatisfied longing 
that he had experienced at that time again took 
possession of his heart. He listened silently to 
the beautiful story of the work of Christ. Then, 
again, it angered him to think that he could not 


254 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


drive such thought from him, and he arose hastily 
and left the place without a word or look of leave 
taking. 

Onesimus walked slowly down the street; he 
scarcely realized whither he went; evening had 
come, and yet the beautiful twilight lingered. 
Now, he could just see in the distance the silver 
sheen of the Tiber. Along the main thorough- 
fares throngs were still passing to and fro, while 
great masses were collected in the open forum, and 
the wine shops at the corners were crowded, so that 
at times he made his way through them with diffi- 
culty. Occasionally he passed the tonstrinae ^ 
which were the rendezvous of the idle. Here, 
through the liberality of politicians, the scum of 
the great city was shorn, curled and painted free. 
After these various operations had been performed, 
the idlers lolled there, drinking the mulled wines 
of Crete, gossiped, and viewed with sensuous de- 
light the women dressed with gauzy draperies, 
dancing and twisting to the clink of the castanets. 
These attractions always drew great crowds to 
these sections of the Subura. 

Ere long Onesimus arrived at the entrance to 
the grounds surrounding the palace of Orlando 
Florus. The moon was now coming up, and its 
pale light playing on the foliage and flowers made 
a haunt of soft yet deep shadows, along the per- 
fumed wilderness of roses through which the path 
led. In the thickets of the foliage and flowers the 

3 The name by which barber-shops were known. 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


255 


shadowy forms of the dryads seemed to linger, 
and in the moonlight spaces the nymphs of the air 
were basking in the golden beams. The gates were 
long since closed, but a trusted slave waited at the 
entrance to admit him when he should return. 

On the portico, enjoying the soft air of the 
beautiful evening, sat Florus, the owner of this 
magnificent place. He was a man of commanding 
appearance. His hair, brushed back from his fore- 
head, revealed a countenance calm and intelligent. 
His white toga, with its wide band of scarlet, was 
fastened at the shoulder with an elaborate jeweled 
clasp. Berenice sat near him, her beauty en- 
hanced by the glory of the pale moonbeams. 
About her radiated the charm of youth and per- 
fect health, which was intensified by her smile as 
she saw Onesimus advancing from out the shadowy 
depths. 

Onesimus felt that, should Philemon learn of his 
whereabouts, this man could save him from the 
degradation and disgrace of being returned as a 
slave to the galley. The family of Florus was 
strong in the political and army circles of Rome, 
as well as having great influence, as a result of 
their vast fortune. This, together with the fact 
that he had won the good will of Nero, reassured 
him at such moments as these, when he felt uneasy 
from the possibility of his identity becoming 
known, since Paul undoubtedly knew the condition 
of his freedom. 

Onesimus advanced and took the seat Berenice 


^56 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


offered him at her side. His blood went surging 
like fire through his veins as he saw the flush mount 
her face, in answer to his look that told of the love 
that filled his heart and soul. 

Florus soon excused himself and retired, leaving 
the lovers alone. 

“ Come for a walk,” said Onesimus, taking her 
by the hand, as he arose to his feet. 

They wandered down the paths, in the alluring 
light of the moon. His heart was thumping in a 
way that almost suffocated him, and a wave of 
intoxicating pleasure swept over him as he felt her 
nearness, and realized that his future happiness 
depended upon the result of this hour. All 
thoughts of his past suffering and wrongs now left 
him, and he lived only in the present, amid the 
flowers and beautiful surroundings, intensified by 
the influence of her love. 

Soon Onesimus stopped abruptly, and came so 
close to her that she could feel his hot breath on 
her cheek, and fancied she could hear the beating 
of his heart. 

“ Thou lovest me ? ” he said at length, as he took 
her hand and kissed it. She offered no resistance, 
and as she made no answer, he threw his arms 
around her and drew her close to him and kissed 
her a score of times ere she had time to remon- 
strate, had she wished. He kissed her wondrous 
hair, her cheeks and her lips, as though he would 
drain this cup of happiness to the very bottom. 

Berenice looked up at last, and as she raised her 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


S57 


eyes, filled with tears of happiness, to his face, he 
read there her answer, and he again strained her 
to his heart. 

“ Thou lovest me.^ ” he said again. For answer 
she wound her soft arms around his neck, and whis- 
pered in his ear : 

“ I loved thee from the very first moment that 
I saw thee, though I knew it not until thy nearness 
and influence had developed it into a passion which 
could do naught but yield to thy love.” 

Then he held her from him and gazed again into 
the shadowy depths of her beautiful eyes, spar- 
kling with the light of her love, dazzling him with 
their lights and shadows. 

Wilt thou be my own, my very own.^ ” 

“ Yes, thine own. I will share thy sorrows as 
well as thy joys,” she replied. 

They discussed the future as they walked slowly 
back to the house. At the door Onesimus stopped, 
and taking both her hands in his, raised them to 
his lips, and whispered in her ear, “ Good night, 
my own sweet darling,” and turned to seek his 
apartments. 


CHAPTER XVI 


Shortly before dark the following evening, One- 
simus fell to thinking again of Paul, and the words 
he had heard at Ephesus returned again to him. 
Onesimus wended his way almost unconsciously to- 
wards the Praetorian camp, near which Paul had 
his lodgings. He felt that Paul had cast a spell 
over him ; he was restless and ill at ease. He paid 
no attention to the Jewish vendors of sulphur 
matches and cracked pottery, who cried aloud to 
passers-by. 

As he drew near to Paul’s lodging he began to 
wonder at the influence which this man exerted 
over him. When Onesimus reached Paul’s door, 
he paused almost against his will. On looking in 
he beheld that face, which, though disfigured with 
the ravages of his afflictions and physical suffer- 
ings, still possessed an ineffable sweetness and in- 
spiring look. 

As soon as Paul saw Onesimus his face bright- 
ened with a winning smile, as he invited him to en- 
ter. Onesimus obeyed, and was soon listening in- 
tently to the wonderful story of Christ, and of his 
death. 

Paul pictured to him the unselfish way in which 
Christ had forgiven his worst enemies, assuring 
258 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


259 


them of life with him secure from all the suffering 
and sorrows which they endure here on this earth. 

Onesimus was lost in thought. He felt 
strangely moved, and could not understand the 
cause. 

He wondered why he did not ridicule this seem- 
ingly extravagant story. 

“ Thou givest me interest in thy God, I would 
hear more of this. What must a man do to receive 
all this ? ” he asked. 

Paul raised his eyes to meet the questioning 
gaze of Onesimus. Those kindly eyes had a won- 
derful penetrating power. It seemed to Onesimus 
that Paul could look into his heart and read his 
past life as an open book. 

“ Faith,” he answered. “ Faith in the power 
of Jesus Christ to save and keep thee. Then, 
trust — trust him in all things — trust him to lead 
thee in the paths of righteousness.” 

A strange conviction stirred his heart and soul. 
Tears that were almost unknown to him came to 
his eyes as a new sense of ease and freedom took 
possession of his heart. A great and uncontrol- 
lable desire to know more of this man’s God almost 
overpowered him. Surely one having the power 
to heal the leper — to stay the iron hand of the 
tempest — to walk upon the troubled bosom of the 
sea — to raise the dead, and then suffer himself to 
be delivered up to a howling mob to die an ig- 
nominious death upon the cross, for the sake of 
the principle of the religion he taught ; surely this 


260 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


Christ must have been a man possessed of the 
spirit of the God he called Father. 

Onesimus rose to his feet, and pressed his hands 
to his eyes as if to shut out an unpleasant scene. 
As he turned to go, he said : 

“ Paul, thou hast almost made me, too, to believe 
in thy religion, and that thy Master is the true 
son of the God of all Gods, and the author of thy 
religion. I have experienced strange feelings and 
sensations, as of a quickening from a deep sleep. 
My heart is filled with the fire of a new purpose, 
and new ambitions. But tell me, friend Paul, what 
of mine enemies, of Sohemus, Lucius, and all the 
others ? 

“ I remember as a dream when I used to walk 
with my mother. The Romans robbed me of her 
love and care, leaving only a faint vision of a pale 
sweet face, that I saw when I stood, a little child, 
at her knee and learned of my father’s fate. 
These, with the murderers of my parents, I have 
sworn to be avenged of.” 

“ Knowest thou not, Onesimus, that after our 
beloved Master was nailed to the cross, while suf- 
fering the terrible agonies of a most awful death 
for us all, — for thee and for me, he cried to his 
father, ‘ Forgive them ; for they know not what 
they do ’ ? ” Paul replied. “ Can we not then for- 
bear, one with another, and forgive one another, 
even as Christ will forgive us? ” 

“ I see I must give up a great deal to secure the 
blessings thy religion offers,” said Onesimus. 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


261 


“ Thou hast well said,” answered Paul. “ But,” 
he continued, “ the surrender of things unpleasant 
to Christ will be a great blessing to thee. It will 
prove thy greatest j oy , and return thee much hap- 
piness and peace of mind when thou canst trust 
the Lord Jesus Christ completely, and return to 
thy master what justly belongs to him.” 

Onesimus, realizing that any attempt to deceive 
Paul regarding himself would be unsuccessful, 
asked: 

“ Is it necessary, then, that I go back and sur- 
render myself to my old master, and again be made 
a galley slave ” 

‘‘ Yea, thou must return to thy master if thou 
wouldst of a truth become a Christian, for thou 
art the property of Philemon in the eyes of the 
law,” said Paul. 

This was a hard blow for the new feelings One- 
simus had begun to experience for this despised 
and unlawful religion, for he had hoped that there 
might be some way of making amends without this 
great sacrifice. When Paul ceased speaking, he 
turned and left without a word, to slowly make his 
way back to the home of Florus. 


CHAPTER XVII 


Onesimus walked down the street with hanging 
head, his bosom heaving, and his mind torn with 
conflicting emotions. This new religion had se- 
cured a grip upon his heart which he could not 
shake off. He longed for it, his soul cried out for 
that sweet peace of which Paul had told him, and 
which was to him unknown. Then his thoughts 
turned to that scene in the garden, and those beau- 
tiful eyes brimming with love and affection. He 
felt again her clinging form as she clasped her 
arms around his neck. He smote his head and 
cried aloud: 

“ O Paul, O Christ ! Can I give up life and hap- 
piness ; can I give her up? Can I do it? ” As he 
heard his voice it startled and aroused him, and 
he looked around to see if any one was near, as he 
had been unconscious of his surroundings. He 
was alone, and had reached the outskirts of the 
city. The horizon was very dark ; it was not alone 
the gathering gloom of the night, but low hanging 
clouds which hovered over and around Mons 
Janiculus, resting almost upon the hill itself, that 
intensifled the gloom. 

The last remnant of twilight had been absorbed 
by the lowering clouds. As it was getting quite 
262 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


263 


dark, Onesimus sat down by the side of the road 
to wait for the light of the moon which he knew 
would soon be shining. How long he sat there he 
did not know. It might have been hours for aught 
he knew or cared. VV^hen he aroused himself, the 
clouds had drifted past, the moon was well up, and 
Onesimus arose and turned to retrace his steps. 
The pale mournful light of the moon contributed 
to his sad and unhappy frame of mind. His 
thoughts wandered back. Again he is seated on 
the ground in a dazed manner, scarcely realizing 
his terrible condition, except that it is horrible, 
while the iron collar is being riveted to his ankle, 
that is to remain there until he is placed upon the 
galley ship. 

His whole being revolted at the thought of go- 
ing back voluntarily and living and experiencing 
such hardships and suffering again, perhaps to be 
branded and tortured — perhaps sold and sent 
into the mines. His heart ached, and he felt 
crushed, undone and beaten by those he had sworn 
to be revenged of. He had come to believe that 
he was in reality a creature of the God of Paul, 
and the more he thought of it the more the desire 
to know Him as did his new friend Paul grow on 
him, yet he did not see how he could live the old 
life on the galley again, except with a curse on his 
lips, and anger, hate and revenge in his heart, 
which would be a violation of the religion of his 
new-found master. Could he, alone, unaided, amid 
such terrible surroundings, suffering daily torture 


264 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


both of mind and body, without the friendship and 
support of this most wonderful man, his new friend 
Paul, remain true to this Christ he felt he was 
about to sacrifice himself for? If not, then why 
give up so much? Why make the sacrifice? Be- 
fore him lay the task of choosing life’s pathway. 
One led to his sweetheart, down love’s highway. 
Down the other beckoned the galley, sorrow and 
toil, while the hold of the galley loomed so dark 
and drear that he shuddered and paused, while 
love whispered in his heart : 

“ Dost thou not know, dear heart and true, that 
the galley means torture, anguish and toil, and will 
end only with thy death? But love is bright and 
fair, while prosperity, affluence and happiness 
crowns him who chooses her way.” 

His soul chilled within him, while he shrank back 
in horror — there was the galley so ugly and cruel 
— then from a pearly pink mist his love beckoned 
to him, and she appeared so pure and fair — then 
he clasped his head in anguish and cried: 

“ O Paul, what a price I must pay for the love 
of Christ ! ” 

It mattered not in what direction he turned his 
thoughts for means of escape from this terrible 
hobble, which was the cause of the mental suffering 
he was experiencing. His brain seemed to be on 
fire and his head felt that it would surely burst 
unless he had relief. He raised his eyes, and look- 
ing up into the heavens, which were just now dark- 
ened by a cloud passing before the moon, which 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


S65 


seemed to Onesimus to be an ill omen, he cried: 

‘‘ My God, the author of my new friend Paul’s 
religion, must I lose thy help and love, and be- 
come a demon if I remain here in this heaven of 
bliss that I have just peeped into; or, is it neces- 
sary, as our Paul says, that I go back, that I re- 
enter that hell of horrors that I may share thy love 
and mercies, with the privilege of joining thee in 
that beautiful home he has told me of? ” 

A voice within seemed to say, “ Go back, go 
back. Trust him — have faith in him — he will 
not desert thee.” He stood still and peered, first 
in one direction and then in another, but there 
was no one to be seen ; he was all alone. It must 
have been the voice of the God of Paul, he mused. 

Great God ! — give himself up ! denounce him- 
self ! He thought with supreme despair of all that 
he must of a necessity give up — the prestige of 
Nero’s favor, wealth, love, and most of all — re- 
venge — never again to walk as a free human be- 
ing inhaling the pure air. Then his mind turned 
again to the awful conditions of the galley slave — 
the sore and blistered hands — the chain on his 
ankle, galling it many times until the blood trickled 
down into little pools ; every morning and evening 
to raise a foot that the fetters might be examined 
by the guard, — the thought of which even now 
sent a twinge through him as he thought of the 
many times he had raised his leg when it was hard 
to repress a cry of pain, which would have brought 
down the lash on his bare back ; at night, covered 


S66 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


with perspiration, exhausted with the fatiguing 
strain of the oar, — his mind clouded and dulled 
with the horror and misery of it all — was this 
what he had been created for? 

Then again that soft voice whispered in his soul, 
“ Thou belongest to Philemon ; be a man, go back, 
go back.” 

“ My God ! My God ! I can’t do it ! It will 
surely kill me. To escape from the horrors of the 
galley’s hold, to face death in the ocean’s tempest, 
and land in this beautiful home of wealth and 
splendor, which I may share with her if I will ; my 
Jesus, why dost thou demand such a price for thy 
love and favor? ” 

Onesimus was a strong man, both physically and 
mentally, yet when he staggered into his room, 
reeling like one drunken with wine, his face drawn 
and haggard, he had not much recollection of the 
journey back. He bolted the door lest by chance 
some one should enter. After pacing the length of 
his room for a time, in a vain endeavor to regain 
his old self-control, he threw himself upon his bed. 
Soon he arose hastily and extinguished the light, 
for it irritated him. What if he should be seen, 
— but that was impossible, he told himself, yet the 
very thing he wished to avoid was transpiring, and 
that which he wished to keep out was entering. 
The God of Paul, he realized, was fast gaining pos- 
session of his heart, and his conscience was enter- 
ing and assisting in his worldly downfall. 

He went to the window and sat down, where 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


267 


the cool breeze could fan his heated brow. A 
dozen questions passed through his mind at ran- 
dom, and he asked himself, ‘‘ Am I not dreaming? 
Can it be possible? And to think that I was so 
happy and care-free yesterday. Is it not all a 
dream? 'Will I not awake to find myself aboard 
the galley? ” He arose and began to pace back 
and forth; he said to himself that this would be 
the end of all his worldly ambitions, that if he went 
back it would cause his life to fade away and per- 
haps this soul, which he now realized was within 
him. 

A new thought came to him. “ What of Bere- 
nice? Is it not the duty of a Christian to think 
of the happiness of others? And what of her? 
Shall I save my body and help her, or shall I save 
my soul and let her drift on to the same fate that 
awaits all of her class? If I save my body and 
stay with her, mayhap I might, with the help of 
Paul, lead her to Christ.” 

He knew as fast as these thoughts came to his 
mind that this would not do, and he felt that he 
was fast approaching a crisis in his life. At last 
he could stand the strain no longer, and he threw 
himself down upon his bed and wept as only a 
strong man can. A great peace soon began to 
steal over him, and he fell asleep. 


CHAPTER XVIII 


The sun was filling the room with brightness 
and warmth when Onesimus awoke the next morn- 
ing. His face had a calm determined look, which 
told plainer than words that he had reached a de- 
cision that was final. 

He arose, dressed himself in haste, and hurried 
out into the warm, free sunlight. He felt a desire 
to absorb as much of the fresh air and sunshine as 
possible, before going back to the foul dark hold 
of the galley. 

Onesimus walked slowly down the pathway that 
led into the garden, past the fountain with the sil- 
very, scintillating spray, dancing in the sunlight, 
and down to the rose-scented bower. Here he 
dropped into the marble seat he had occupied the 
morning he first met Berenice after arriving in 
Rome. He gazed in silence at the beautiful sur- 
roundings. Although he had settled his future ac- 
tions, the beauty of the place drew forth a sigh. 
In all probability this was his farewell visit. 

Onesimus was interrupted in what might have 
terminated in an unpleasant reverie by the ap- 
proach of Berenice, who came up smiling, and took 
a seat beside him. She sat in silence for a time, 
268 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


269 


waiting for him to speak, but he remained silent. 

“Art thou ill?” Berenice asked, as she gazed 
into his face, which looked careworn and drawn, 
clearly showing the effects of the mental strain he 
had endured. Onesimus took her hand in his, and 
pressed it in silence for a time. 

“ Berenice,” he said, and his voice had a strange, 
pathetic sound that was new to her, “ hast thou 
heard of one called Paul, a disciple of Christ, and 
a teacher of his religion? ” 

“ Yes, but why dost thou ask? ” she answered. 

“ When I was at Ephesus with the man to whom 
an unjust law gave power to retain me as his own 
property, his slave, I heard this man Paul speak- 
ing to a little band of Christians. I thought not 
much of it at that time, but afterwards there came 
to me at times a wish that I might have at least as 
much freedom as this hunted and downtrodden peo- 
ple have. As time went on I forgot entirely about 
him and his words. A few days ago, as I was 
walking near the Praetorian camp, I saw sitting 
near an open doorway a man with a strangely 
familiar face. I paused a moment as I saw him. 
He must have recognized me, for he bade me enter, 
which I did. There were two other friends with 
him, and they were reviewing their work, during 
which I learned a great deal of this unlawful re- 
ligion. When I left the place I could not drive 
from my mind the words I had heard The more I 
tried to forget them the more vivid and real it all 
seemed it must be. The next day an uncontrollable 


270 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


impulse took me there again, this time to hear from 
this man of grace and sweetness, though burdened 
with affliction both mental and physical, the true 
story of Christ, his master. Is it strange that this 
man who could cause King Agrippa to say ‘ Al- 
most thou persuadest me to be a Christian ’ ^ 
should also persuade me to believe? ” 

“ What ! ” she interrupted, “ hast thou turned 
Christian? Dost thou not know that all Christians 
are condemned to death, that thou art signing thy 
death warrant in joining this band of condemned 
lawbreakers ? ” she said, with a tone of horror. 

“ But for thy interruption I should have tried to 
explain all the circumstances leading up to my 
change of heart — ” 

“ I want no further explanation,” she retorted, 
growing angry. ‘‘ If thou art of a truth turned 
Christian, the place where thou dost belong is there, 
not here,” she continued, her face aflame now with 
the anger natural to one of her environments. 

But as Onesimus arose and turned to leave, she 
heard him murmur as he passed: 

“ O Jesus, show me the way, and strengthen me 
lest I fall.” 

After he had passed her he turned and stretched 
out his arms to her with a yearning in his heart and 
tears in his eyes. Several times he essayed to 
speak, but could not. His sorrow choked him. 
At last he murmured brokenly, “ Berenice ! ” He 
could say no more, but in his heart there was a 
1 The Acta 56 : 28 . 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 271 

prayer that the dear girl might some time see the 
light as he saw it. 

In a moment all her anger was gone, and with a 
sob she threw herself into his arms. 

“ My dear one, my precious love, I have prayed 
that thou mayest never know the agony this step 
has caused me. I have tried to find a way in which 
I might be true to Christ and my convictions, and 
not go back and surrender myself to my former- 
master, but it is impossible, and I must go.” 

“ Onesimus, hear me ! Thou shalt not go ! I 
cannot let thee go ! I love thee so ! ” Berenice said. 

“ I know, dear one, and it breaks my heart, but 
Christ has spoken to me and I must go, for I can- 
not prove false ; I must be true to what my heart 
tells me is right, and my duty. So, dear heart, 
send me forth with a smile and a kiss that I may 
take to the dark hold of the galley, should that be 
my lot, a loving picture of thy own dear face, to 
ever cherish and comfort me in my hours of pain 
and suffering.” 

“ If thou dost love me, hear me, Onesimus, if 
thou dost go thou wilt take with thee the very 
breath and soul whereby I live. Thou art more 
than my life; thou must not go. If thou wilt not 
stay and live for thy sake, stay and live for me, and 
love’s sake. My darling, give up this wild desire 
to return to slavery and perhaps death; dismiss 
from thy mind such thoughts and soon thou wilt 
forget it all in my embrace. All the wealth of my 
love is thine, surely thou will not be so cruel as to 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


272 

leave me now to wither and die like a rosebud 
plucked and thrown by the wayside.” 

As Berenice continued to plead with him her 
breath fanned his cheek. This temptation was al- 
most greater than his power of will and determina- 
tion. 

“ My precious love,” said Onesimus, “ make not 
harder my lot for me to bear. Thou knowest full 
well that I love thee, that I would gladly give my 
very life to make thee happy, but this thing I must 
do, so canst thou not help me to be manly and 
strong, and be true to what my heart tells me is 
right Thou hast tempted me almost beyond my 
strength,” he continued. 

“ Onesimus, this love came to me, I know not how 
or why, mayhap from the God thou dost claim to 
leave me for. Onesimus, if thy God exists. He 
made us, each one for the other, and would he ask 
thee to desert me after teaching me to love thee, 
when I cling to thee so.^ ” 

Onesimus started, and a quiver ran through him, 
while he attempted to draw away from her embrace. 
Feeling this, Berenice repeated again what sounded 
wondrously alluring and enchanting : 

“ For my sake, Onesimus. For love’s sake, wilt 
thou not stay.^^ ” said Berenice, as she looked up 
into his eyes. 

“ It cannot be, Berenice,” he answered calmly. 
“ The God of Paul has willed otherwise, why, I can- 
not not now understand, but some time I trust he 
will reveal to me the reason. Wilt thou say fare- 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


27S 

well to thy father for me, and say that I thank him 
for his kindness to me, and now, dear one, fare- 
well,” he continued. 

He did not touch her hand, nor kiss her face, 
or stop to utter one more word. He felt that had 
he done so his strength would have failed him. Be- 
fore she could frame a reply he was gone — gone 
forever — and her eyes grew dim with the tears she 
tried to hold back. 

Tears began to veil her beautiful eyes as she 
stood there in the bright, warm sunshine, with the 
bitterness of death hanging over her heart, while a 
great, sharp pang of anguish passed through her 
as she saw her heart’s love vanishing from her sight, 
and she was alone. She tried to hate him, and 
wondered that she could not, and her heart told 
her that she never had loved him when he was with 
her as she did now that he had gone. Through a 
mist of tears she looked at his manly, retreating 
figure with worshiping eyes. Every element of his 
beautiful and unsullied character seemed to her to 
stand out in bold relief, while faith in him had all 
returned to her, and his courage and devotion to his 
principle, his self-sacrifice, and his recklessness of 
danger, moved her profoundly. In her heart she 
felt that he was as far above her as the stars, and 
if she loved him before, she worshiped him now, and 
gladly would she have followed him to the ends of 
the earth had he beckoned her. Gladly would she 
have made any sacrifice for such a prize as that 
strong, brave heart would be. She knew she could 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


274 ^ 

never love another, and wondered vaguely what life 
held for her now. The world was empty, and her 
heart was broken. Her face grew pale and her 
temples throbbed painfully as she saw that her 
pleadings had failed to swerve him from his posi- 
tion. She felt that he loved her still, and realized 
that of a truth there must be more to this accursed, 
despised and unlawful religion than many realized, 
for would this man cast aside her love, the wealth 
and influence that her marriage would bring, were 
he not sincere Unconsciously she felt a desire to 
know more of the religion, while she tried to peer 
into the future for a solution of it all. 

Sadly, and with faltering steps, she returned to 
the house, and was glad not to meet her father, as 
she hastened to her private rooms where she threw 
herself upon her bed and gave way to a passionate 
flood of tears. 


CHAPTER XIX 


It was yet early as Onesimus made his way to- 
w'ard the Prjetorian camp, near which Paul had his 
lodgings. Paul was allowed many privileges not 
usually granted to Christian prisoners. This was 
largely due to the fact that Afranius Burrus was 
praefect of the Praetorian guards, and was an hon- 
est, big hearted, soldierly man, and more human 
and upright than many of his class. As a result 
Paul, although chained to a soldier, was allowed to 
hire lodgings of his own, with the privilege of 
freely communicating with his friends, both by let- 
ter and personal intercourse. 

As Onesimus drew near to Paul’s lodging he saw 
several of the soldiers seated around Paul and the 
guard to whom he was fettered. They were listen- 
ing intently to what Paul was saying, and took no 
heed of his approach. 

Not desiring to interrupt Paul in his talk, One- 
simus stepped into the doorway and stopped. 
Paul looked up and greeted him with a winning 
smile. Onesimus listened intently until Paul had 
finished his discourse, when he was affectionately 
greeted by all present. They, however, soon took 
their leave, and Onesimus and Paul were left alone, 
save for the soldier to whom Paul was fettered. 

275 


^76 ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 

“ Paul,” said Onesimus, as he drew a seat near 
and sat down, “ the Lord Jesus hath conquered this 
stubborn heart of mine at last, and I have decided 
to be true to the whisperings of my soul, and go 
back to my old master, even though it subject me 
to the cross and the branding iron, or cause me to 
become again a galley slave.” 

‘‘The blessing and peace of the Lord Jesus 
Christ will attend thee on thy journey,” said Paul, 
with a look of great satisfaction. “ He will in no 
wise desert thee in the hour of thy trial, and doubt 
not but that the path of thy duty will be also the 
path to thy greater happiness. Philemon and his 
good wife Apphia are both known and beloved by 
me, and I verily believe that if I write to him con- 
cerning thee that he will grant thee thy liberty, 
for thou art more than a son to me. I mentioned 
it not to thee before, for fear it might be a factor 
in helping thee to decide what was thy duty. But 
should he not decide to set thee free, have no fear 
for the future, for thou wilt of a certainty be 
treated with kindness and consideration, for he is 
even now, as thou, a fellow Christian, and thy 
brother in Christ, so he will not impose upon thee 
a condition of slavery such as thou hast known in 
the past.” 

Paul was soon busily engaged in writing the let- 
ter on which would depend the future happiness of 
Onesimus. 

As soon as Paul had finished the letter, he handed 
it to him, and said: 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE m 

“ I have learned to feel for thee the affection a 
father feels for his son, and gladly would I, who 
have so few to tend me and comfort me in hours of 
solitude, retain thee with me, and I feel that were I 
to do so that Philemon would be happy in the 
knowledge that one on whom he had a claim was a 
comfort and blessing to me in my declining years, 
but I could not presume upon his kindness of heart, 
while thou art by law bound to him. Thou wilt re- 
turn to him and give him this message which I have 
written. 

“ I overheard Afranius Burrus and one of the 
guards speaking of a ship that sails to-morrow for 
Antioch and will touch at Attalia in Pamphylia, 
which will be well, for thee, and make thy journey 
an easy one. Tychicus of Ephesus, who carries 
letters to that city as well as to the Colossians, will 
journey with thee.” 

“ From the bottom of my heart I thank thee, and 
I shall return and take up the old life of a slave 
and whatever joys and sorrows it may bring, with 
a light heart, feeling that I have been true to that 
which my conscience hath told me was right in the 
sight of God and man, and even now there is a 
sense of gladness in my heart, and peace in my 
mind, that I have not known for years. And now, 
farewell,” said Onesimus, as he raised Paul’s hand 
to his lips. 

“ Farewell,” said Paul, ‘‘ and may the blessings 
of the Lord Jesus Christ attend thee on thy 
journey. Remember Him and be strong in thy 


278 ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 

purpose and He will comfort and greatly bless 
thee.” ^ 


1 The feelings of Onesimus during his slavery and what 
it meant to him to return to his master cannot be appreci- 
ated without some knowledge and insight into the general 
conditions of slaves and slavery in these ancient eastern 
countries at that time. Had Philemon not been a Chris- 
tian, to send Onesimus back to him would in all probability 
have been to consign him to certain and terrible torture, 
and possibly to crucifixion. In any event, he would be 
branded a runaway slave. 


CHAPTER XX 


As Onesimus sat on the deck of the ship with 
Tjchicus enjoying the fresh ocean breeze, he fell 
to thinking, and was amazed at the apparently im- 
possible change that had taken place in him. He 
could not analyze this power that had worked so 
complete a change in his entire being. 

Here he was, going back as fast as wind and 
brawny muscle could take him, to that awful con- 
dition of slavery. While Paul had endeavored to 
make it easier for him by his hopeful view of the 
outcome, there was at times a terrible dread in 
his heart, for he knew full well the law regarding 
a runaway slave, and the absolute power of the 
master of such an unhappy being. 

Onesimus, however, was changed in every thought 
and feeling, for he did not long permit his mind to 
dwell on the unpleasant possibilities of what might 
happen, or in what condition he would be placed. 
Into his life had come a purpose. The wealth and 
power that would be his should Nero take up his 
plans, would be as naught could he but bring com- 
fort and peace to some poor slave’s heart on the 
galley, for there, of all places in which a slave can 
be put, is need of the sustaining grace and power 
of the spirit of God. 


280 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


The days passed quickly and uneventfully, and 
after a somewhat tiring journey Onesimus and 
Tychicus drew near to the villa where Philemon 
lived, on the outskirts of Colossae. 

Onesimus experienced a strange feeling of relief 
as he drew near the house. He was not kept long 
in suspense, for as he neared the house he saw his 
old master with his wife in the garden, who recog- 
nized them both and came down the path to meet 
them. 

Onesimus led the way as they came up. He 
walked, not as he did when a slave, but with that 
erect, proud carriage so characteristic of the 
Roman. Philemon stopped and gazed at Onesimus 
and his companion in amazement, and seemed at a 
loss for words to speak. Onesimus broke the 
silence, and said: 

“ Be not surprised, it is I, thy unprofitable slave, 
Onesimus. Since the love of Christ hath filled my 
heart, I am, upon the advice of Paul the apostle, 
constrained to return to thee the money which I 
took and surrender myself unto thee, and beg thy 
forgiveness for the wrong I have done thee, for in 
the eyes of the law I am thy property, which I could 
not realize at the time I followed the longings of a 
human heart for freedom, and escaped. I also 
bring thee a message from our dearly beloved 
Paul.” 

Philemon took the packet and opening it, eagerly 
read: 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


281 


“ Paul, a prisoner of Jesus Christ, and Timothy our 
brother, unto Philemon, our dearly beloved and fellow 
laborer, and to our beloved Apphia, and Archippus 
our fellow soldier, and to the church in thy house: 
Grace to you, and peace, from God the Father, and 
the Lord Jesus Christ. 

“ I thank my God, making mention of thee always 
in my prayers, hearing of thy love and faith, which 
thou hast towards the Lord Jesus, and towards all 
saints; that the communication of thy faith may be- 
come effectual by the acknowledging of every good 
thing which is in you in Christ Jesus. For we have 
great joy and consolation in thy love, because the 
bowels of the saints are refreshed by thee, brother. 

“ Wherefore, though I might be much bold in Christ 
to enjoin thee that which is convenient, yet for love’s 
sake I rather beseech thee, being such a one as Paul 
the aged, and now also a prisoner of Jesus Christ. 

“ I beseech thee for my son Onesimus, whom I have 
begotten in my bonds; which in time past was to thee 
unprofitable, but now profitable to thee and to me; 
whom I have sent again: thou therefore receive him, 
that is, mine own bowels: Whom I would have re- 
tained with me, that in thy stead he might have minis- 
tered unto me in the bonds of the gospel : But without 
thy mind would I do nothing; that thy benefit should 
not be as it were of necessity, but willingly. For per- 
haps he therefore departed for a season that thou 
shouldst receive him forever; not now as a servant, 
but above a servant, a brother beloved, specially to me, 
but how much more unto thee, both in the flesh, and 
in the Lord.^ 


282 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


** If thou count me therefore a partner, receive him 
as myself. If he hath wronged thee, or oweth thee 
aught, put that on mine account; I Paul have written 
it with mine own hand, I will repay it: albeit I do not 
say to thee how thou owest me even thine own self 
besides. 

“ Yea, brother, let me have joy of thee in the Lord; 
refresh my bowels in the Lord. 

“ Having confidence in thy obedience I wrote unto 
thee, knowing that thou wilt also do more than I say. 
But withal prepare me also a lodging: for I trust that 
through your prayers I shall be given unto you. 

“ There salute thee Epaphras, my fellow prisoner in 
Christ Jesus; Marcus, Aristarchus, Demas, Lucas, my 
fellow laborers. 

“ The Grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with your 
spirit. Amen. 

“ Written from Rome to Philemon, by 
Onesimus, a servant.” ^ 

After Philemon had read the letter he looked at 
Onesimus, and said : 

“ Thy escape, while it was a grave offense in the 
eyes of the law, was not so in the sight of the Lord. 
I had no right to keep thee in bondage. It has 
only been a short time since I started out to follow 
the blessed master, and I had not thought of this 
before. I have changed the condition of all the 
slaves, but I now see my error and shall manumit 
them all, and if they care to stay I will pay them 
for their work. Paul wants thy freedom, that thou 

1 The Epistle of Paul to Philemon. 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


283 


mayest return to him, to comfort and assist him. 
He has not asked for thy manumission but I see 
that that is his wish, and it shall be done at once, 
so that thou mayest return, soon to be with him.” 

“ Let us return to the house, that Onesimus and 
Tychicus may be refreshed and rest themselves,” 
said Apphia. 

After partaking of the hospitality of Apphia 
and Philemon, Tychicus continued his journey to 
Ephesus, for he carried letters for the brethren 
there and at other cities, as well as the letter to the 
Colossians. 

In view of the fact that Onesimus was not an 
ordinary slave, for he was of a refined disposition, 
well bred, and educated, the time passed pleasantly 
and rapidly, and Philemon apparently experienced 
as much pleasure over the changed conditions re- 
sulting from the freedom of Onesimus, as did One- 
simus himself. They discussed the work of the 
Master, and plans were formulated for Onesimus 
taking up the work in Ephesus, for which his nat- 
ural abilities and education made him peculiarly 
fitted. 

One afternoon as they were sitting in the garden, 
Philemon said : 

“ I have been thinking of our beloved Paul of 
late, and his lonely condition, and I believe it thy 
duty to return and minister unto him until his re- 
lease.” 

“ I have thought of him in his loneliness and 
wished that I might go to him, and serve him in 


284 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


what ways might be in my power, but have hesi- 
tated to ask thee for the privilege. The good Lord 
will surely bless thee and thy house in great meas- 
ure for thy goodness and kindness, not only to my- 
self, but to our beloved Paul,” Onesimus replied. 
“ I think I shall start on the morrow for the return 
to Rome,” he continued. 

Philemon rose and returned to the house, leav- 
ing Onesimus alone. He had drunk deep of life’s 
cup of sorrow, which made him feel more keenly the 
joy of his new position. The love of Christ in 
his heart had crowded out all thought and desire 
for revenge, and the only mar to his perfect happi- 
ness was the twinge of pain that at times he felt in 
his heart over the loss of Berenice, whom he dearly 
loved, but at such times a voice seemed to whisper 
to him that the dear Lord who had led him thus 
far would continue to lead him in the paths best for 
him to tread, and which would ultimately result in 
the greatest good and joy. 

“ Oh, how slowly the hours pass,” said Onesimus, 
to himself, as he looked to the sky to find the sun 
yet an hour high. Since it was determined that he 
was to return to Rome, he felt that peculiar rest- 
lessness and intense desire to start that a child 
feels as the hour draws near for a journey. 


CHAPTER XXI 


As Onesimus made his way along the familiar 
streets to Paul’s lodging, he fell to thinking of 
Berenice, and wondering in what way, if any, he 
could convey to her the message of Christ. He was 
but human, and while he had completely surren- 
dered his life to Christ, that love which at times 
comes to us all was strong in his heart for this 
Roman maiden. If she in some way could be con- 
verted to this new religion, — but he put this out 
of his mind and turned his thoughts to Paul and 
others he had met, feeling that if it had not been 
the will of God, they would not have been sepa- 
rated. Onesimus quickened his steps as he drew 
nearer. 

When he reached the building which had been 
occupied by Paul when he went away, he found it 
closed and with a feeling of sadness he turned away. 

He had not gone far when he met Afranius Bur- 
rus, the praefect of the Praetorian guards, whom he 
knew to be a friend of Paul’s, also a Christian. 

“ What of Paul, where hath he gone.?^ ” eagerly 
asked Onesimus, as he clasped the hand of Burrus. 

‘‘ Right glad I am to see thee,” answered Burrus. 
‘‘ As to Paul, thank the Lord, he was brought to 
trial and acquitted soon after thy departure. He 
285 


286 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


started at once for Colossae, hoping to reach there 
before thy return, for he told me that he expected 
that Philemon would give thee thy freedom, and 
that should he do so, he believed that thou wouldst 
hasten back to Rome, and he wished that thou 
wouldst take up the work at Ephesus, where they 
are in sore need of assistance.” 

“ If it was his wish that I labor there for the 
Master, I will soon return. Where do the brethren 
meet to-night ? ” 

“ In the Cestian Grove, at ten,” answered Bur- 
rus. 

“ There are several visits which I wish to make, 
so I will say farewell should I not see thee to- 
night,” said Onesimus. 

After an affectionate farewell, Burrus continued 
on his way, while Onesimus went toward that part 
of the city where many of the Christians lived, 
hoping to pass a few pleasant hours with them 
before the hour set for the meeting in the grove. 

It was some time after darkness had curtained 
the city that Onesimus and a small company of 
friends started for the grove. They made their 
way cautiously through the dimly lighted streets, 
choosing those that were the least frequented at 
this time of the evening, for Tigellinus had number- 
less spies out at all times on the lookout for any 
signs which would justify the arrest of any one on 
the charge of being a Christian. 

A pale crescent moon could be seen at times, 
shining through a rift in the clouds, which m^^d? 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


287 


the river gleam in the faint light like a thread of 
silver, as it wended its way towards the sea, till it 
was lost to sight. They passed but few pedes- 
trians, and these seemed not to notice the little 
band as they went from one deserted street to an- 
other. At last they reached the grove, and to their 
pleasure found that quite a large number had al- 
ready assembled, while others continued to arrive. 

As soon as they reached the grove Onesimus sat 
down to rest, for he felt weary and for some reason 
unusually oppressed, as though some calamity were 
nearing. The sky was clearing, which made it 
much lighter among the trees. He sat in silence, 
for the time, enjoying the beauty of the evening. 
Above the subdued voices of the little company, 
could be heard from time to time a distant trumpet 
call or strain of music, while occasionally the gentle 
breeze wafted to him, upon the quiet of the evening 
air, the sound of merry laughter, indicating that 
here and there were many merry-makers enjoying 
with the same freedom the beauty of the evening, 
but he felt a sickening sensation in his heart as he 
thought of the way in which most of these he heard 
from time to time were living. 

Suddenly through the gentle stillness of the 
evening Onesimus heard a trumpet call that startled 
him, and while none of the others gave heed, he 
started to his feet in sudden alarm ; with his hand 
to his ear as he stepped to the edge of the grove. 
The call was not loud, but he had been in the army 
long enough to know its significance, and involun- 


S88 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


tarily he felt a sense of fear for the little band of 
Christians assembled there. A chill fell upon his 
heart, the reason he could not understand. There 
was no indication of danger, just the one trumpet 
call, which even yet echoed in his mind like a wail. 

After all that he had passed through, what if 
they were rounded up like a band of wild animals 
and driven off to the dungeon, soon to suffer death 
in the horrible ways that many of the Christians 
did.? A shudder passed through him. He strained 
his ear to the utmost, but heard no sound save the 
rippling of the river as it rolled lazily on almost at 
his feet. The meeting had begun and Onesimus, 
not wishing to disturb them without cause, said 
nothing of his fears. They were in a very secluded 
spot, and one could not see them until close upon 
them. There was a rise in the ground to protect 
them from view from the land side, while on the 
upper side there was a very dense growth of under- 
brush, with a marshy piece of ground at the lower 
side. Onesimus listened long, and made a circuit 
of the grove, but did not see or hear anything to 
arouse further suspicions, and concluding that the 
trumpet call could have no significance so far as 
they were concerned, he joined the little band. 

As he came in sight of them again he saw 
Timotheus reading Paul’s last message, by the faint 
glimmer of a horn lantern held by a slip of a lad. 
Silently and eagerly they drank in the words from 
Paul, that blessed message which he would so 
dearly have loved to deliver to them in person. 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


289 


This message from Paul was as a tonic to them ; it 
quickened their hearts and made them more deter- 
mined to press ever onward to their final reward. 

Timotheus had scarcely finished reading when 
two of the brethren who had been stationed as out- 
posts to prevent a surprise, and warn them of the 
approach of strangers or enemies, came dashing up 
excitedly and out of breath, shouting, “ Run ! 
Run ! The soldiers are coming ! ” In an instant 
all was a terrible confusion, which prevented many 
from escaping. All of the Christians were familiar 
with the fate of those who were captured in this 
way and taken to the prisons. The natural in- 
stinct of self-preservation, with which all are en- 
dowed, helped to make the confusion greater. Lit- 
tle children clung to the skirts of their mothers, 
who in many instances were hampered with a baby 
in their arms, while they were helpless with despair 
for the safety of their little ones. The lights were 
extinguished at once, which added to the confusion, 
but made it possible for many to escape who other- 
wise would have been captured. Above the din 
and confusion could be heard the brutal command 
of the officers. to the soldiers to spare none of the 
Christian dogs who attempted to escape. This 
order only intensified the terror, and in the strug- 
gle which followed many were slain without mercy. 
Onesimus noticed that many of those not hampered 
with children, in their terror forgot about assisting 
others to escape, when, had they done so, many 
might have made their escape who were slain or 


290 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


captured. He never faltered and gave no heed to 
his personal danger, but continued up to the last 
moment in assisting children who had become sepa- 
rated from their mothers to escape through the 
brush to places of safety. When the soldiers were 
so close that this was no longer possible, he saw 
that escape for himself was also impossible, and 
waited quietly, imploring those with him to remain 
passive and quiet, that they might not be slain. 
Reassured and encouraged by his actions and 
words, they waited calmly and bravely for what- 
ever fate might have in store for them, and were 
prepared and willing to die for their Blessed 
Saviour if need be. The soldiers soon had those 
who were left surrounded and marched them away. 

When they reached the prison, men and women 
alike were hurried into promiscuous dungeons ; the 
suffocating foulness of the miserable surroundings, 
reeking with filth and vermin, was of itself an an- 
ticipated death. 


CHAPTER XXII 


After Onesimus had left Rome, and Berenice was 
alone, she meditated much upon the apparent 
genuiness of his conversion. The more she thought 
about it, the more she became convinced that there 
surely was more to this despised religion than many 
people believed. Many times when she visited with 
Octavia she would listen to her stories of her 
Christ. 

On one of her visits to Octavia she listened to the 
reading of the records of the Life of the Saviour by 
Lucas. These conversations and readings had at 
last convinced her of the truth, and she saw the 
beauty of life, with that blessed peace and sweet- 
ness which she had never known or dreamed of. 
She began to realize the compelling influence that 
prompted Onesimus to give up all that life might 
hold dear and go back to the galleys again. 

The Spirit was with Christ in the Garden of 
Gethsemane and the cross had no terrors for him. 
He had already endured that. All the distress and 
bitterness of death had been left behind, under the 
olive trees. Again she saw Onesimus in the garden, 
and felt that surely the Spirit of Christ was with 
him, for death and the galleys had no terror for 
him, but why he, her lover, should be called from 
291 


292 


ONESIMUS. THE SLAVE 


her to suffer that the ^vill of the Saviour might be 
victorious, she could not understand. 

Berenice had almost become a real, true Chris- 
tian, and in fact was at heart more of a Christian 
than she realized, when she heard of the capture of 
the little band of Christians in the grove, and later 
learned that Onesimus was among them. She 
could not understand it at all, for it did not seem 
possible that it could be Onesimus, for he surely 
could not be here unless he had run away from his 
master again, and she knew he would not do that. 

Berenice was very much troubled and had made 
numerous inquiries, but so far had been unable to 
learn anything definite. About all she could learn 
was that the next day there would be scores of the 
Christians put to death for the entertainment of 
Rome’s depraved aristocracy, as well as for that of 
the general public. She determined to attend, 
much as she dreaded it, for she was not of a disposi- 
tion to enjoy seeing any one suffer and believed 
that it would tax her strength to the utmost, but 
go she must, for the suspense was becoming unbear- 
able. She must learn something of Onesimus. If 
he was in reality there and was to be put to death 
with the other Christians, it might be that the 
wealth and position of her father could save him in 
some way. 


CHAPTER XXIII 

After a restless night Berenice was up early, 
waiting impatiently for the opening of the amphi- 
theater. She dreaded the opening, for fear of 
what she might see and learn, yet the time passed 
with a slowness that was torture to her. 

When she arrived at the amphitheater it seemed 
to her that all Rome was there. Every seat was 
occupied, as well as all available standing room. 
The citizens were dressed in their newest and best, 
many with garlands and wreaths of flowers. What 
a sight it was ! Berenice had never been there be- 
fore. Although she was a Roman by birth, there 
was a certain refinement and tenderness in her na- 
ture that had always caused a shudder of horror 
when she heard of the terrible sufferings of the un- 
fortunate ones that were sacrificed there. 

There they were, thousands upon thousands of 
human beings gathered to witness, with pleasure, 
the sufferings of those unfortunate people who were 
hounded to death just because they chose to believe 
and worship the true God, and refused to accept 
Nero as the living god. 

There was a perfect babel of voices that at times 
swelled almost to a mighty roar, which rose and fell 

as the sounds were carried hither and thither by the 
293 


294 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


gentle breeze. It seemed to Berenice that all Rome 
had gone mad, and was wild for blood, blood of the 
innocent; that of wild animals had ceased to ap- 
pease this unmerciful mob. 

It was in this terrible amphitheater that Berenice 
found herself this bright, beautiful morning. She 
thought with a shudder that a great many innocent 
little children, as well as men and women, would 
come out of those gates which led from the dun- 
geons, and look up into the beautiful blue sky for 
the last time this morning. She dreaded for the 
carnage of death to commence, for she doubted if 
she could endure to watch the terrible sufferings 
and torture she knew would take place. 

She had secured a seat near the podium, where 
Nero and his attendants, as well as the Senators 
and distinguished people, sat, sheltered by awnings 
with silken hangings. Here she thought she would 
be sure to recognize Onesimus should he be sent into 
the arena. 

While Berenice was impatiently waiting and 
dreading the beginning of the slaughter, Onesimus 
was kneeling in prayer in his dark, foul dungeon. 
Praying, not for deliverance from the terrible 
death that he believed awaited him, but for strength 
to endure and the grace to say, “ Thy will be 
done.” 

Onesimus was soon disturbed by the rattle of the 
lock, and the bolts being drawn, when, with a creak- 
ing of the rusty hinges, the ponderous doors swung 
open and the faint sickly glimmer of light from the 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 295 

lantern of the guard partially illuminated the 
interior. 

“ Stand up, thou dog,” ordered the guard, in a 
brutal and unfeeling way. “ Thou wilt soon be 
made a plaything for untamed bulls and the like, 
so cease thy prattle and follow me,” he added. 

Onesimus was led back through a long passage- 
way to the gladiators’ quarters, when the guard 
turned to him and said: 

“ I have assured the Emperor that this day he 
shall have rare sport ; for this reason, thou wilt go 
armed as thou mayest wish, but pitted against the 
most vicious and savage brutes anywhere to be 
found. Here, select what thou wishest.” 

Onesimus looked around; here were to be found 
weapons of almost every description. He was, 
however, not interested in many. He turned his 
attention to the long sword first. He tried several, 
some were too highly tempered and broke when put 
to the test he gave them, while others bent and were 
cast aside. At last Onesimus found one of unusual 
length and weight, perfectly straight and as sharp 
as a razor it seemed to him. This one was so per- 
fectly tempered that it withstood the most severe 
tests to which it was put. The guards looked in 
wonder at the selection of this weapon, for never 
had they seen such tests given to a sword. 

This sword was intended to be worn suspended 
from a plain cross-hilt by a belt which passed over 
the shoulder and chest. This arrangement, how- 
ever, did not suit Onesimus, and he cut the belt so 


296 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


that it fitted snugly around his waist, made some 
holes in each end, and with a piece of strong cord 
fastened the ends together, for he had no intention 
of being hampered with anything loose and in the 
way, as it would be otherwise. The other weapon 
was a short, straight, heavy, two-edged sword, 
which he inserted in the waist belt which he had 
made. Turning to the guard, he said : 

“ I am ready.” 

The hinges of the gates opposite Nero creaked 
as they swung slowly open, and a solitary figure, 
escorted by two guards, entered the arena and ad- 
vanced to the center. The guards, advancing a 
few paces towards the Emperor, saluted, and left 
the arena by the way they had come. 

There was a thrill of excitement and admiration 
as Onesimus advanced, and was recognized by the 
assembled multitude. Many of that great assem- 
blage had seen Onesimus when he was an easy win- 
ner in the games, and recognized him as a man of 
great strength and skill, and many were wondering 
why he should be there. As his familiar name was 
passed from lip to lip, his glance swept the multi- 
tude and soon seemed to rest upon the spot where 
Berenice sat. The next instant Onesimus threw 
aside his tunic, when a murmur went up from the 
crowd as they saw again this specimen of superb 
manhood, unhampered by outer garments. As he 
did so he clasped his hands and knelt upon the 
sand, and offered a fervent prayer for the con- 
version of the girl he loved, whom he thought he 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


m 

had recognized among the multitude assembled to 
watch and gloat over the sufferings and death of 
men, women and little children. 

This act of devotion seemed to displease the 
crowds. While most of the Christians died like 
lambs led to slaughter, they anticipated that the 
very nature of this man would prevent such an end- 
ing, and would of a truth give them more sport 
than the most of this despised sect had. 

Onesimus had not long to wait for a knowledge 
of the kind of foe that was to be pitted against him, 
for the shrill blare of a trumpet announced the 
opening, and as this signal was given a gate oppo- 
site Nero’s podium swung open, and a great, sav- 
age urox ^ from the North country came trotting 
into the arena, driven by shouting keepers. 

The noise in the amphitheater, which at times 
increased almost to a roar, was now stilled. Never 
before had they seen such a man as this matched 
against such a wild animal, which created an in- 
terest that stilled the multitude until there was al- 
most perfect silence. 

As soon as the urox saw Onesimus it lowered its 
head and, with a bellow of rage, made a dash for 
him. Quick as a flash Onesimus drew his long 
sword and calmly waited the approach of the beast. 
He had not long to wait, for the urox came at him 
at a terrific pace. 

Onesimus appeared like a statue as he stood with 
eyes riveted on the charging beast, for there was 

1 Urox: a species of wild ox or buifalo. 


S98 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


not a movement of the body, but his mind bad 
worked quickly when he saw the urox enter the 
arena. 

On came the charging animal, gathering speed 
as it approached, and when it was almost upon One- 
simus, the crowd seemed uneasy, for still there was 
no movement and it seemed as though he intended 
to let the wild beast trample him under foot. 
When the urox was almost within reach of his 
sword, Onesimus, with the agility of a panther, 
sprang to one side, and as he did so that long sword 
shot out like a flash, aimed for the beast’s heart, 
but the point struck one of his ribs instead, glanc- 
ing upwards, making a long wound which only 
served the more to enrage the urox. It turned as 
soon as it could stop itself in its mad race, and 
again came charging at Onesimus. This time, as 
before, he seemed to pay no attention to the beast 
until it seemed to be within arm’s length, and again, 
with, that cat-like spring, he was out of harm’s way, 
and as the urox passed him that strong right arm 
shot out, and quick as a flash the deadly long sword 
had done its work, and the point had reached a 
vital spot. The blade was thrust almost to the hilt 
in the animal’s side, and it did not run more than 
twenty paces before it tumbled in a heap. The 
speed of the beast was so great that Onesimus did 
not dare to attempt to withdraw the sword for fear 
of being jerked off his feet should he not succeed, 
in which case he might be injured, and he knew the 
end was not reached. 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


299 


When Onesimus saw the urox fall and fail to rise, 
he turned toward the Emperor, and bowed. The 
crowd rose almost as one man, and shouted its ap- 
proval. That was one of the most skillful acts 
they had ever witnessed. Many were shouting 
that the man’s life be spared, and thumbs were 
held high all over the arena. 

The body of the urox was dragged from the 
arena, and slaves sanded the spot of blood, and, in 
a twinkling almost, there was no evidence of the 
scene that had just been enacted and again One- 
simus stood before them, this time, however, with- 
out the deadly long sword at his side. 

He stood facing the Emperor, with arms folded 
over his chest, and again he thought he recognized 
the face of Berenice; his thoughts were on the 
point of drifting into unpleasant channels, when 
he heard the blare of a trumpet and he knew that 
some other man or beast was entering and again he 
must defend himself or go down to death. 

The crowd could hardly understand his lack of 
concern, for he seemed not to heed the sound of 
the trumpet announcing the entry of another foe 
any more than he had the former. 

After the echo of the trumpet had died away, 
Onesimus turned to see what manner of foe he was 
now to be pitted against, and saw slowly advancing 
towards him two huge tigers. They did not seem 
much bent upon attacking any one, and were ad- 
vancing, it seemed, more as a result of the guards 
who were following them with spears. 


300 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


The tigers were now evidently near one of the 
spots recently sanded by the guards to cover the 
blood from the wounded urox, for they sniffed the 
ground and their tails began to lash the air in a 
way that meant trouble soon. The beasts which, 
so far, had not paid the slightest attention to 
Onesimus, now seemed to notice him for the first 
time. The smaller of the tigers took a few steps 
with lightning-like swiftness towards him, stopping 
when within five or six paces distant. 

The great beast crouched there, uttering a sound 
which of itself would strike terror to the average 
man. Its fangs were uncovered and its eyes glow- 
ing like coals of fire. 

Onesimus stood like a statue with his eyes riveted 
on the eyes of the brute, as though trying to read 
its intentions and determine in advance what the 
next move might be. He had not long to wait, for 
the great cat soon crouched low, its claws began 
to feel of the earth beneath it, while all sounds 
had ceased to issue from him, there was a gradual 
settling of the lithe body, though its claws worked 
convulsively in the earth, while the large muscles 
of its shoulders and hind quarters were so tensely 
drawn and contracted that they stood out as great 
knots. 

What a picture it made, this great mass of 
quivering bone, sinew and muscle ; all the savage- 
ness of one of the greatest beasts of the jungle, 
which had been half starved in its cage to make it 
even more ferocious, now stood before him. 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


301 


Suddenly Onesimus noticed a quivering of the 
hairy lip of the beast and a lashing of the tip of 
its tail, and he watched even more closely every 
movement, when, as quick as a flash of lightning, 
those legs straightened out and that huge body 
shot through the air with unerring aim, straight 
for its prey. When once in the air there was no 
swerving or changing its course, and Onesimus at 
that moment had a decided advantage, if quick 
enough to make use of it. 

It seemed to Berenice as she watched the tiger 
in what she thought was a spring that meant death 
to the one she loved now with all the strength of 
her being, that her heart was suffocating her, she 
tried to cry out for relief in her agony, but no 
sound escaped her lips, and she sank back in her 
seat in an agony of despair. After what seemed 
to her a long period of torment and pain, there was 
a change of the scene that sent another shock 
through her. With swift and catlike agility she 
saw that dear one step slightly to the right and 
turn a little towards the flying animal ; then with a 
lunging forward of those marvelous shoulders, his 
right arm shot forward with the deadly short 
sword, which caught the tiger squarely over the 
heart and was sent to the hilt. It must have pene- 
trated the heart, for, with a savage growl-like roar, 
the great heretofore unconquered beast doubled 
up as it fell in a heap and lay in its last death 
struggle. 

Onesimus stood for a moment surveying the 


302 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


dying tiger, seemingly unconscious that perhaps 
death was swiftly approaching. 

The larger of the two tigers, which had appar- 
ently been content to see its mate make the spring 
that would bring down their prey, now became 
fully alive to the situation, for it took, as did its 
mate, a few quick steps and then, with a sudden- 
ness that was a surprise to all who saw it, it set- 
tled, dug its claws into the earth, and with a sav- 
age snarl sprang at Onesimus, who was caught un- 
awares. He heard the snarl of the beast and with 
a start was himself, and alert, but unwittingly had 
given the tiger the advantage. He turned to meet 
his foe, but it was almost upon him and he had no 
time to spring either to the right or left, yet like 
a flash that short sword was driven into that huge 
cat’s body at almost the same moment in which its 
great paw struck him and hurled him to the earth, 
where he lay bleeding and unconscious, while the 
tiger was pawing and biting at the handle of the 
sword that had not been drawn from the wound, 
which was a mortal one and fortunately prevented 
it from doing further harm to Onesimus. 

When Berenice saw her loved one go down, her 
heart seemed to stop and the next moment she cov- 
ered her face with her hands to shut out the awful 
scene, and sank into her seat an inert being, and 
was held from falling by her faithful slave. 

There were many in the audience who knew the 
handsome, manly fellow, who it seemed had gone 
down to death in an unusual fight against great 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


303 


odds, which should have been a victory, for he had 
triumphed over his foes, which were the fiercest 
that could be pitted against him. 

A great clamor arose near Berenice among men 
who had lost in their wagers, claiming that they 
had won because Onesimus had won, because he had 
killed all of the beasts before he died. 

When Berenice revived she looked again into the 
arena, just as the body of Onesimus and the tigers 
were being removed. She arose and beckoned for 
her slaves to follow, and hastened to leave the 
amphitheater. As she approached the prison gate 
she met one of the attendants, and slipping several 
coins into his hand she asked if he would conduct 
her to the prison corridor, where she thought One- 
simus would have been taken. Seeing him hesitate, 
she took from her purse three gold coins and ten- 
dered them to him in return for the favor. When 
his eyes fell upon the shining coins, all hesitancy 
vanished. 

“ Follow me, lady, and I will conduct thee, but 
it is at great risk,” he said. 

In silence she followed him and arrived just as 
the body was being taken to the yard to be thrown 
with the other dead bodies. 

As she stooped over his silent form and wiped 
some dirt from his forehead, she thought she de- 
tected signs of life. Hastily she summoned the 
attendant to her and gave him the contents of her 
purse, which was more than he had had in his pos- 
session for many a day, and said : 


304 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


‘‘ Have a litter brought at once that I may take 
him with me, for surely Nero has no more use for 
him.” 

“ As thou wishest, lady,” the attendant replied, 
as he hastened to do her bidding. 

It was with a feeling of intense relief that she 
saw the beloved form lifted onto the litter. As 
soon as they were safe outside, she gave orders for 
them to follow, while she hastened on in her chariot, 
that she might have things in readiness when they 
arrived. 

When the litter was brought into the house, One- 
simus was tenderly lifted from it and placed in the 
bed he had occupied on his first visit to the house 
of Orlando Florus. 

Berenice explained to her father what had hap- 
pened, but could give him no information as to 
why he was back in Rome. 

Elorus was much annoyed at the thought of 
Berenice’s having anything more to do with One- 
simus, since he learned that he had become a Chris- 
tian, and was glad when he learned that Onesimus 
had left Rome, as he thought for good. Florus 
was, however, too well acquainted with the deter- 
mination of Berenice to oppose her in matters of 
this sort. 

“ Take good care of him, that he may soon re- 
cover and continue on the mission on which he evi- 
dently must have been sent,” her father said, as he 
turned to leave them. 

As soon as her father had left the room Berenice 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


305 


cautiously approached the bed and laid her hand 
upon Onesimus’ forehead and searched his face 
for the signs of the returning consciousness for 
which she was praying. How long her gaze had 
rested upon his face she did not know, for the mo- 
ments were as hours to her, but, as if in answer to 
her appealing gaze, he half opened his eyes and 
slowly reached out his hands as though groping in 
the darkness. Soon the color came back to his 
face, and Onesimus, awakening to a full under- 
standing, looked in wonder at the surroundings 
and the sweet face now bending over him. 

“ How came I here? ” he asked. 

Berenice explained what had happened, and how 
she came to be in the amphitheater during the 
games. 

Onesimus had not suffered any serious injury 
from the attack of the tiger, save a very severe 
shake-up, though his head pained him a great deal, 
due to striking the earth so hard when he fell. 

Berenice could stand no longer the look of phys- 
ical as well as mental pain that showed so plainly 
on his handsome face, and she bent over him and 
pressing her lips gently to his forehead, said : 

“ Did we but stand on shore of the sea, 

The form of a fish I would trace there for thee, 
For by this sign thou wouldst understand 
That now I belong to the Christian band.” ^ 

2 The early Christians used the form of a fish to signify 
their acceptance of the teachings of Christ. It was quite 
common for a Christian desiring to ascertain if a stranger 


306 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


As Berenice ceased speaking, she put one hand 
over his lips, and the other over his hands, which 
lay clasped, and said: 

“ Onesimus, I knew the news would be as a tonic 
to thy heart, and for this reason did not wish to 
delay letting thee know of the good news. Ask me 
not at this time any questions, for I know thou dost 
need rest and perfect quiet.” 

Onesimus, as Berenice had requested, remained 
silent, but she saw his lips move and knew it was 
in prayer, while a smile played about his face for 
a time, which was followed by a look that told 
plainer than words that he was still suffering from 
the effects of his fall. 

For a long time Berenice sat, holding his hands, 
while he lay perfectly quiet, and after a time 
dropped to sleep. 


was of the faith, to draw the outlines of a fish, or display 
a miniature fish, which many of the Christians carried with 
them. If the stranger was a Christian, he did likewise. 


CHAPTER XXIV 


The sun was shining brightly through the win- 
dow when Onesimus awoke. Except for a soreness 
through his chest and head, he felt none the worse 
for his experience in the arena. 

After the morning meal was over, Florus, Bere- 
nice and Onesimus repaired to the portico, and 
when they were comfortably seated, Florus turned 
to Onesimus, and said: 

“ My conduct and my loyalty to Nero has, at 
all times, been such that none could point the finger 
of suspicion at me, or criticize me in thought, word 
or deed. I have at all times looked upon the Chris- 
tians as has Nero himself, but after thy departure 
to return to thy old master, I noticed with some 
uneasiness that Berenice was less gay, apparently 
much affected by what to me looked to be the de- 
sertion by the one man who had ever succeeded in 
winning even her smile. She soon lost that bright, 
buoyant and happy smile and manner, and I no- 
ticed that she visited much with Octavia,^ and be- 
came very friendly with Domitilla, and went many 
times to the farm of Vespasian. I soon began to 

1 Octavia, daughter of Claudius, wife of Nero, who was 
a true Christian, suffered a most horrible death after her 
banishment, as did many of the early Christians. 

307 


308 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


feel that she had come under the influence of this 
power that caused thee to desert her. I knew that 
to remonstrate with her would be useless, so have 
said nothing, but I have watched her very closely, 
and am about convinced that the Christians are in 
possession of an enticing secret far more precious 
than any of the teachings of Seneca and the host 
of philosophers that have come and gone. Ere 
long I was conscious of the fact that I had a feel- 
ing that I would hear more of this, for it is like all 
forbidden things ^ most wondrously alluring and 
attractive. I have come to wonder if, back of it 
all, might there be something worth the while. A 
short time ago I should have told thee to forswear 
and renounce thy Christianity and Christian 
friends, or my daughter’s betrothal must be con- 
sidered at an end. Being alone in the world ex- 
cept for Berenice, my one ambition in life has been 
to try and make her happy. I am, therefore, con- 
strained to say, may the blessing of thy God fol- 
low and attend thee. 

“ I doubt not that Nero’s spies will follow thee 
and that thou wilt not be permitted to remain in 
Rome and live. I am getting old and will soon 
have to drop out of the army, should I stay with it 
now. When Berenice has gone the sunlight of my 
life will have darkened with a cloud which all Rome 
cannot dispel. She’s all I have left — where she 
goes, there must I follow, so I shall instruct my 
banker to dispose of my property interests here, 
2 Nero made it a capital offense to embrace Christianity. 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


309 


that I may accompany Berenice and thyself where- 
ever it seemeth wise for thee to go, and will make 
an effort to become reconciled to Berenice embrac- 
ing this new religion.” 

When Florus had thus spoken, he arose and en- 
tered the house, leaving Onesimus and Berenice 
alone. 

Onesimus arose, and as soon as Florus had left 
took a seat beside Berenice. She had realized by 
the beating of her heart that he was coming before 
he took a step, and a thrill of rich sweetness began 
to course through her, which made her face con- 
vey to him the welcome Onesimus felt certain 
awaited him. 

As Onesimus seated himself, Berenice turned her 
face to him, which was to his eyes more beautiful 
than a full blown rose — the fairest and loveliest 
that ever opened under heaven. 

“ Berenice, thou, as a Roman, hast honored me, 
first, with thy notice, honored one who to thine eyes 
wast as a slave. I do not believe that it would 
have been possible for thee to continue to love me, 
a Christian, had I not permitted the hand of the 
one God to lead me, even though it seemed to be to 
the galleys and certain death. I had dreamed of 
the beautiful life in the wonderful richness and ra- 
diance of thy love, of the grandeur of this life amid 
the luxuries and pleasures of Rome, and a thousand 
and one things rare and beautiful. When the 
spirit of the God of Paul came into my heart I 
tried hard to crowd it out, for it seemed it would 


310 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


be impossible for me to give thee up, which I 
thought would necessarily have followed. Almost 
was I persuaded that in all of this wealth of love 
and pleasure, where the every wish of the heart 
might be gratified, that no sorrow could come nor 
the soul grow cold with pain. 

“ The devil came and tempted me sorely. He 
whispered in my ear, ‘ Thou art young, and life will 
be one long, fair day and thy pathway will be 
strewn with the flowers of her love. How good life 
is ; thou canst smile and breathe the fresh pure 
air, made fragrant by her presence. Is not this 
life with her more to be desired than the life of a 
slave, chained to a seat in the hold of a galley.'^ 
Why did Paul, with all his goodness, love and kind- 
ness, impose such a terrible price for thee to pay 
for the love and favor of his Christ Why did 
this Christ permit such a sacrifice, if he would rule 
this world by love.^ ’ 

“ In this way did the tempter come to me, and 
the greatest trial of my life was to be true to that 
small voice that whispered in my heart, over and 
over again, the words that my friend Paul had said 
to me when last I saw him, ‘ Trust in the Lord with 
all thine heart and lean not unto thine own under- 
standing. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and 
he shall direct thy paths.’ 

My mind was in a whirlwind of conflicting 
thoughts when I left Paul and wandered many 
hours alone in the darkness. After a time the 
clouds which had obscured the moon drifted away. 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


311 


and I saw the pale moon as it lay dreaming in the 
sky, while the night wind wandered past me with a 
moan. All things lay sleeping on earth’s slumber- 
ing breast, save me alone. My heart throbbed 
fast, and my eyes were dim with tears as I stretched 
out my arms towards thee in thy home. Ah, never 
to see thy face again through all the years, or 
touch thy hand ! Dear God, what a price ! And 
then my mind wandered back to the days of suf- 
fering which I had endured as a slave aboard the 
galley ship. I was not yet strong enough in the 
faith to reason as an old convert. One minute I 
was tempted to fly to thee and renounce the Christ, 
and then the next I would feel like a condemned 
criminal for such a thought. I was swayed this 
way and that like a blade of grass in a storm. 

“At last, worn with anguish and tortured with 
the temptations of the devil who continually held 
before my eyes what I was losing on the one hand 
and what I would be called upon to endure on the 
other, I made my way back here and sought to get 
a little rest. The Nazarene came to me during the 
night, and closed my tired eyelids in peaceful sleep ; 
refreshed my body and strengthened my mind and 
heart, and when I awoke the next morning the way 
where love and duty called seemed so clear to me 
that I wondered that I had hesitated at all in arriv- 
ing at a decision as to what I should do. 

“ When I left thee I went to Paul and told him 
of my decision, whereupon he wrote a letter for me 
to carry to my old master, who, some time after I 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


3ia 

ran away, had met Paul and become a Christian. 
When he read the beautiful lines Paul had written, 
he at once manumitted me and advised that I re- 
turn to Rome to minister unto Paul. 

“ After my arrival here I went at once to see 
Paul, but found he had been released, and that same 
evening I attended a meeting of Christians in the 
grove, where we were surprised by a band of sol- 
diers and many were captured and taken to prison. 

“ When it came my turn to go into that place of 
such horrible slaughter, I felt that my death was 
near at hand. Even when called to select the 
weapons with which to fight those beasts, I had no 
thoughts of killing them and escaping. When, 
however, I stepped into the center of the arena and 
saw that vast sea of human faces, there for the one 
purpose of witnessing our death, I seemed to feel, 
to realize, that somewhere in that countless multi- 
tude sat one who was looking forward to, and 
hoping that her lover might in some way be vic- 
torious. 

“ When my glance again swept that great 
throng, it seemed attracted to a certain spot, and 
I knew thou wert there. The inspiration of thy 
presence lent strength to my arm and hope to my 
heart, and I immediately began to feel that I would 
come out victor of the combat.” 

As Onesimus talked, Berenice sat and watched 
him, her eyes shining with the keenest interest and 
admiration for the strength of character she had 
learned that her lover possessed. She now leaned 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


313 


forward, rested her elbow on her knee, and dropped 
her chin in the palm of her hand, which brought her 
face very close to his. Her hair brushed his cheek, 
while her breath fanned his face. 

Onesimus turned and looking into her eyes, said ; 

“ Berenice, may I speak to thee as of old when 
we wandered in thy beautiful garden so happy and 
free.? May I tell thee again of my love, which 
hath grown purer and stronger.? ” 

“ As thy heart dictates, so mayest thou speak,” 
she replied. 

“ Berenice, what wilt thou do with the life thou 
hast so graciously saved.? Were it not for thy 
ready wit and alertness of action, I would not be 
alive to-day. For what I am, and what I may be, 
I am indebted to thee. I can not now come to thee 
in the old way, — for then I had worldly prospects 
well worth while, for the flooding of the Sahara 
Desert would have given me influence, wealth and 
position. Now, it is all changed. I can not even 
offer thee the strength of this body, for sickness 
and disease may take it away; nor this life thou 
hast so beneficently saved, for it belongs to the 
Master and is pledged for his cause; Berenice, I 
have nothing to offer in return for the wonderful 
gift of the wealth and blessing of thy love, except 
it be love, and that only. 

“ But, dear heart, never was woman loved with a 
stronger, better, or purer love than that which I 
give to thee.” 

“ My brave, noble and true-hearted Onesimus,” 







316 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


Onesimus leave, so I have decided to see the banker 
to-day and convert everything into bills of ex- 
change and coin at once.” 

Florus was silent for a time, then continued : 

“ Berenice, I verily believe that thy marriage 
should take place to-day, so that thou canst leave 
Rome to-morrow, for I fear trouble, should One- 
simus tarry longer, and since it is known that he is 
a Christian there will be no escape should he be 
taken again. This I should dread for thy sake. 
If thou art wise thou wilt have him send at once 
for one of the apostles of his faith to come this 
afternoon and perform the ceremony, and then 
thou wilt be ready to depart at once. If this meets 
thy approval, I will send word to the officers of the 
galley Neptune, which I had planned to have con- 
verted into a pleasure craft, to make her ready for 
sea, and be prepared to start at a moment’s notice.” 

‘‘ But what of thee, father? ” she answered. 

“ I will get affairs settled up here as soon as pos- 
sible, and follow thee,” he said. 

It was late in the afternoon when Berenice and 
Onesimus were united in marriage, without the 
pomp and splendor usual to one of her station. 
Her love and marriage meant so much to her that 
her heart was full of contentment with the quiet 
and simple wedding which was necessitated by 
their preparations for a hurried departure from 
Rome. 


CHAPTER XXVI 


The sun was kissing the earth with a last fare- 
well before taking its dip behind the mountains. 
The few fleecy clouds that a few moments ago were 
so white, were now tinted a most delicate pink. 
Berenice, Onesimus and her father were seated on 
the portico enjoying the glory of the early evening. 

“ Tell us, father, of thy visit to the banker,” 
said Berenice. 

“ I could only make partial arrangements, but 
will complete our transactions early to-morrow. I 
believe, however, that Onesimus should leave this 
evening, for I fear trouble, as I said before. I 
will follow on the morrow, and as it will not be 
necessary for thee to travel at any great speed, I 
should be able to overtake thee before sunset, if 
all goes well,” replied her father. 

At that moment, Tero, who had always the best 
interests of his master uppermost in his thoughts, 
dashed up with the alarming intelligence that an 
officer in military dress had stopped at the gate, 
and would soon be there. 

Tero had hardly ceased speaking before they 
saw one of Nero’s chariots coming up the drive- 
way and soon an officer alighted, saluted Florus, 
and delivered a message from Nero requesting 
317 


318 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


Onesimus to accompany the officer into the presence 
of the Emperor. 

Elorus assured the officer that Onesimus would 
follow at once, which, while not entirely satisfac- 
tory, yet, coming from Elorus, the officer stated 
that he would so report, and, stepping into the 
chariot, drove hastily away. 

There was nothing for Elorus to do but to take 
matters in hand with the utmost dispatch, and he 
sent Tero in haste for the slaves in charge of the 
stables. As soon as they appeared Elorus ordered 
them to get ready, as soon as possible, his match- 
less Arab horses and chariot. While this was be- 
ing done he hastened Tero to the captain of the 
Neptune, with orders to have a small boat in wait- 
ing at the quay and make the ship ready for im- 
mediate departure. 

“ I see serious trouble soon,” said Berenice, as 
she approached Onesimus. 

“ Art thou ready to leave ; what of all the beau- 
tiful things which surround thee here.?^ ” he asked. 

“ I care naught for them, except a few keepsakes 
which father will bring with him, when he joins us, 
as soon as he can get away.” 

Eurther conversation was cut short by Elorus 
announcing the readiness of the chariot. 

Onesimus took Berenice in his arms, swung her 
into the chariot, and the next instant was by her 
side. Reaching down, he took the lines held up to 
him by the slaves, also a long plaited whip. As 
soon as he had the lines adjusted to his liking they 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


319 


went speeding down the driveway, while Berenice 
waved a farewell to her father. The attendants 
of the gates opened them as they drew near, so 
that it would not be necessary to draw rein. 

They had scarcely turned into the street when 
Berenice gave a little scream and clutched One- 
simus’ arm. 

“ The soldiers ! ” she said. 

Onesimus looked over his shoulder and saw a 
squad of soldiers that had just come into view 
from a side street. He suspected that they were 
after him, and this thought was confirmed a mo- 
ment later when the officer in charge saw them and 
gave chase. Onesimus recognized the peril that 
confronted him, and the responsibility for the 
safety of Berenice. He also realized that he was 
at a great disadvantage, for the soldiers’ horses 
were not hampered with a large chariot as his were, 
besides he did not know the temper of the horses 
he was driving. He had only a short start of the 
soldiers, and it was a long drive to the quay. 

All these thoughts went through his mind like a 
flash, while the old thrill of excitement flushed his 
heart and quieted his nerves. In his excitement 
and danger he had almost forgotten his God, and 
he felt ashamed. Again he glanced over his shoul- 
der, and was horrified to see that the distance was 
materially lessened, and the soldiers were coming 
like the wind. As he turned his attention again to 
his horses he noticed that while they were running 
swiftly it was with perfect ease, and he felt that 


320 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


there was a great amount of reserve strength that 
could greatly increase their speed, which might 
turn the race in their favor. 

Remembering that Paul had told him that the 
Lord would never forsake him, his mind turned to' 
his God in a prayer for help in this critical 
moment. It was not of himself that he was think- 
ing, for he was absolutely fearless, but for the 
dear girl at his side, who had entrusted herself into 
his keeping, he was uneasy. 

The soldiers were steadily gaining on them, and 
Onesimus told Berenice to cling tightly to him with 
one hand and to the framework of the chariot with 
the other. As her arm tightened around him he 
realized the time had come to get the utmost speed 
the horses were capable of ; the next moment he 
raised his arm, loosed the lash of the long whip he 
held, and the next instant it sang around, then shot 
out over them like a darting flame of fire, to its end, 
and stopped with a sharp report which sounded 
shrill above the thud, thud of the horses’ flying 
feet, and the thunderous roar of the chariot wheels. 
The startled steeds, although running at a good 
speed, stretched out with great leaps and seemed to 
almost fly through the air. Their sensitive nos- 
trils were dilated as though scenting the extreme 
danger to their mistress, but their speed was tell- 
ing, for the distance between them and the Romans 
grew steadily greater. The speed at which they 
were now going over the rough street caused a 
sickening lurching and swaying of their chariot. 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


321 


which made Berenice hold her breath in fear. 
This, however, seemed not to disturb Onesimus in 
the least, for his body gave to the rocking and 
swaying as gracefully as it used to do to the ship 
when tossed by a savage wind and angry sea. 

She glanced at his face. It was pale, but there 
was an expression there that reassured her. Bere- 
nice now, for the first time, noticed the masterly 
manner in which Onesimus handled those flying 
steeds. All her fear was leaving her while her 
hold on him tightened in her pride and excitement. 

A quiver of rage and almost despair ran through 
the officer in charge of the soldiers as he saw 
Onesimus increasing his lead. With each pace 
that was added to the distance separating them his 
chances of capturing them grew less, while the 
prospects of trouble with Nero grew greater. He 
might be charged with assisting them to escape, 
perhaps with being a member of this band of Naza- 
renes which he so ardently hated. He urged his 
horse again and again, but despite his best efforts 
the distance continued steadily to increase. 
Something must be done, and quickly. He gave a 
sharp, quick command, and almost in the instant 
four arrows were discharged at the escaping figures 
in the chariot, but all go wild save one that im- 
bedded itself in the woodwork close to Berenice. 

At that hour in the evening the streets were 
thronged with people. The crowds along the 
streets seemed to grasp the situation as they saw 
the desperate race. On the one hand, apparently. 


S22 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


was a couple racing to the goal, not for the ap~ 
plause and garlands that usually go to the victor, 
but for life and liberty, while perhaps the loss of 
the race would mean the dungeon, if not death; 
while on the other hand was a squad of soldiers 
racing under Nero’s orders and for Nero’s favor. 

They had never seen anything of the kind be- 
fore, and cheered and frantically waved their 
hands as they stopped to watch this race, which 
rivaled a race in the arena. 

Realizing that the crisis was near and that he 
must have more time than his lead would give him, 
in order that they might dismount and get into 
the boat and out of reach of the arrows of the 
soldiers, Onesimus leaned forward in his flying car, 
bending over the shaken rein and now startled 
steeds, forgetting everything — every peril, in the 
mad race for life and liberty, and again sent that 
menacing lash, with its startling report, darting 
over the backs of the steeds. Over them it played, 
first one and then another, in quick succession, al- 
ways ending with that sharp report which was 
more effective than the lash. The four responded 
as one with a brilliancy and dash that was danger- 
ous for the car, considering the character of the 
street. As Onesimus neared the last turn leading 
to the quay, the crowds along the streets were 
horrified to see him swing to the side of the street 
to get the largest circle possible in making the 
turn, with no decrease in the maddening pace at 
which he was going. The crowd stood still and 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


S2S 


ceased their cheering, expecting to see an awful 
wreck, but they had underestimated the skill and 
strength as well as the daring bravery of the driver 
of those matchless steeds. As Onesimus drew near 
the curb, in describing the greatest circle in the 
turn, the wheel barely missed the curb, which 
would have meant disaster, but with a skill and 
speed that was marvelous, he rounded the turn, 
and what a gladdening sight met their gaze. 
There, but a short distance away, was the quay, 
while a little way out lay the Neptune ready and 
waiting for them. As he came dashing up One- 
simus began to rein in his steeds, and it was with 
difficulty that he slackened their speed sufficiently 
to enable him to dismount. His faithful Tero was 
there waiting, and grasped the bits as Onesimus 
dropped the reins, took Berenice in his arms and 
sprang from the chariot, not waiting for it to come 
to a stop. Tero waited just long enough for an- 
other slave to mount the chariot and drive away, 
when he followed his master to the small boat that 
was in w^aiting to convey them to the ship, and they 
were out of range of their arrows as the soldiers 
dashed up. 

“ The gods rend their hearts,” panted the officer 
in a tempest of rage. 

He cursed and shook his fist at the departing 
boat, then, turning, he and the soldiers rode back 
in the direction from which they had come. 

As Onesimus and Berenice reached the deck of 
the Neptune, a few hurried orders were given. 


ONESIMUS THE SLAVE 


and a few moments later the ship was under way. 

They sat hand in hand at the stern of the ship 
looking back from whence they had come. The 
people who were at the quay and who had witnessed 
the finish of that unusual and exciting race, stood 
and watched the ship as it made for the sea, with 
its precious freight, until their forms were lost to 
view. 

The sun was sinking rapidly; soon it seemed to 
be resting on the crest of the low-lying western 
hills ; a few moments it seemed poised there ; then it 
dropped behind them and was lost to view, with 
only the golden glow of light that reflected most 
eloquently the glory of its setting. Onesimus and 
Berenice watched the glow grow dimmer and dim- 
mer, and soon it faded away entirely. The lights 
of the city now gleamed in the distance, and the 
twilight had faded into a velvet blue, sprinkled with 
glittering stars. 

“ Berenice,” said Onesimus softly, “ the spirit of 
the God of Paul spake to me and touched my heart. 
His God delivered me from Nero and the wild 
beasts in the arena. In following him I was led, 
not back to the galley as a slave to be tortured, as 
I thought, but to thee, and thy dear life was given 
into my keeping. Paul wished that I should take 
up the work for the master in Ephesus, which I 
shall do as soon as we arrive, and I trust that we 
may grow in his grace so that when we have come 
to the twilight hours of life, those about us may 
be better and happier in the memory of our lives.” 


ADDENDA 


The ecclesiastical traditions about Onesimus’ 
episcopate, martyrdom, etc., are too late and un- 
authenticated to deserve notice. As far as dates 
are concerned, he might be the Onesimus, Bishop 
of Ephesus, mentioned forty-four years later by 
St. Ignatius. His day is celebrated February 
16th in the Roman Calendar. 


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